The Interview
by madreag
Summary: This is an AU story set in 2009. Richard Castle is engaged to marry a well-know Public Defender. During a TV interview he offers an opinion which puts him at odds with his friend the Mayor. As a result he agrees to work with the 12th Precinct where he meets their best detective, Kate Beckett and her team. His life quickly becomes, complicated.
1. Chapter 1

This is an AU piece set in 2009, the characters are therefore not canon. I've completed the story and will publish every week or so. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

 **The Interview**

 **New York City**

 **2009**

 **Chapter 1**

The night air was heavy, giving the midnight sky a knife like quality. The frigid moisture appeared suspended as it cut everyone and everything that ventured out into its chilling path. But he stood his ground. This icy climate matched the last decade of his life. While the New York weather made no attempt to hide itself, he on the other hand, had cloaked himself in all the perks with his reach. But it was just costume jewelry to him, never expelling the loneliness that simmered below the surface. He wondered how he could have so much, and still be so isolated. Certainly his daughter had been his anchor, and that truth was both comforting and concerting, because he could not live life through her. He knew the great villain was his failed marriages. That union, that abiding relationship, grounded on the closest friendship anyone could have, had been denied him. The failures were never far off his horizon.

But he reminded himself that everything had changed. Melissa Marrone had come into this life, thawing his heart and urging him to believe again. She was not strikingly beautiful, but exuded a vibrancy that few women he had met ever possessed. One would not notice her in a room of people, but if you met her, if you spoke with her, you'd forget that anyone else had even been present. People were naturally drawn to her. She had cajoled and tugged him back into the land of the living, the land of the loving. She convinced him to take a leap of faith, back into an institution in which he had no faith. But even this wonderful woman, could not push all his doubts away. In his private and vulnerable moments he resolved this would be his final walk down the isle, no matter what.

So here, on this chilling night, what confused him was his presence on the roof. He found himself, squinting into the dark to see his taunting ghosts. Those shadows on the periphery of vision, whom he heard, more than saw. With certainty, he knew they were there, and he was afraid, yes deathly afraid of the murmuring voices. They were stole aways into his subconscious, the hidden corners of his mind, who, in the middle of the night shattered his dreams and chased away sleep. They left him panting, bolting from bed, knowing full well there would be no rest in this night. Then he'd flee out into the cold, attempting to shake free of their hold.

XX

It had been years coming but, truth be told, Derrick Storm had been on life support since 2005. Oh, he continued to write, but the fun, the joy, the heart of the character had worn out like an old carpet. In fact he had felt a weight roll off his shoulders when his hero breathed his last. Looking back he should have saved his glee, for he had no idea the funeral and mourning would last so long.

He may have been done with Mr. Storm, but Black Pawn was not. For the final book in the series they were pulling out the stops. He wondered secretly if his publisher trying, to put him down, right next to his main character. Based on the endless runs of book signings, parties and interviews, he was exhausted. He'd spent more time on Page Six then at home.

But tonight was different and he hoped it would be more fun. He was on a entertainment segment on Channel 7, the highest rated TV station in New York City, and wondered if things had been slow and they were filling a slot with, the local-boy-does-good story. When he expressed this to his publisher they reminded him of the old saying that, any press, was good press. So, they jumped at the opportunity for the appearance.

The make-up person dabbed at his chin with a soft brush. He thought this was a waste of time, but it was their show. Finding him unable to resist, he spoke in a near whisper, not wanting to disturb this intent looking woman as she fussed over him, "Do I really need this?"

She stopped, her hands dropping to her side and let out a jolly laugh, "It's high def honey! Everybody needs slap to sit in front of those cameras," she shook her head and added, "It'll find the remains of a zit from when you were 15 years old, so sit back, and let me do my magic."

Castle smiled to himself thinking, _another thing_ _I_ _know absolutely nothing about_. Ten minutes later Donna Babe, the make-up lady was done. She plucked the sheet of tissue from his collar and stood back, her hands on her hips this time, inspecting her work, "Good to go big guy! Knock 'em dead," and pointed him toward the green room.

XX

Eighteen-hundred miles south of New York City, Detective Kate Beckett felt the warm Caribbean water swirl around her feet. She would never have believed warm tropical air, hot white sand beaches and this luxurious water could make her feel so alive. She scoffed at her earlier reluctance to take the two weeks and escape the demands of her job. But Tom had pushed, and pushed, and finally she had relented, suspecting her Captain was about ready to order her to take some time off. When she broached the proposal of two weeks away, he was delighted and approved it without a second thought.

She and Tom Demming had been together for over a year and they had gotten on wonderfully. She was beginning to feel that at last her walls were easing down and that she was ready, or least getting ready, to let someone in. The years of anger and sorrow over her mothers death were finally relinquishing its strangle hold on her. She was looking forward to stepping into the light and ending her long, long winter. She could feel a change in the air, something was happening and it made her cautiously hopeful. She thought of a line from a _Jonathan Kellerman_ novel that had stuck in her head, "...they gave her permission to want joy, instead of avoiding pain." She wanted the same, to let go, and to want joy.

XX

Across town Melissa Marrone sat in her fiancé's spacious loft, waiting for the TV segment to begin. She stared into the deep red liquid and then tipped the glass so she could draw in the fragrance of the the Syrah. It was her favorite wine, not Cab and not Merlot, but this she considered the perfect alternative to each. She had been living with Richard Castle for nearly nine months. He was easy to be with, except when he was in one of his writing fits, otherwise he was a happy and content partner. They had talked about the demise of his most famous character and the future. She'd been concerned with his unabashed declarations of, "I have no idea what's next," which was the honest truth and a bit unsettling. He was ending one character, and a very profitable one at that, without a clue of who would replace him. She had teased him that such a decision, a venturing into the unknown, was way beyond her 'comfort zone.' He just smiled.

Melissa was a Public Defender, whose area of law forced her to live in a world of hard and brutal realities. Her job was to stand between the State of New York and those accused of crimes, without the means of affording counsel. The job existed as part of a constitutional mandate and, was therefore funded by the State. Trials had to be fair and speedy. Defendants were entitled to a lawyer, even if the couldn't afford one. She had often told Castle that she was the only thing, "between them, and the gallows." Her job was to make the State meet its burden of proof. It was hard and often frustrating, she had twin foes, the focus of her ire, an overreaching District Attorneys Office, and their aggressive and evil twin, the NYPD.

In their time together, well at least at first, she fought the urge to vent over her battles with the powers of New York. But he was close, and always willing to listen. He had become her sounding board but she feared she would drive him nuts with her personal craziness. As she explained, many of her clients were seen as merely the 'trash of society.' They were shelves below the rest of the world and ended up receiving a watered down version of justice that meted out excessive punishment, with no one even caring. The DA, and his minions, used her clients like human fodder. It added points to their resumes, with high conviction rates and long prison sentences. For them, it was as easy as taking candy from a baby. She believed most New Yorkers either didn't care, or applauded the removal of the cities vermin from the streets. Few ever gave thought to the actual people it destroyed. Interaction taught her that many of those she represented had been forced, by the circumstances of poverty, lack of education and abandonment by their own families into this hellish life. Many were former wards of the State with its foster system and overworked child protective services. They became non-people in the system, and without hope, they drifted into crime.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the TV announcer informing the audience that after the next break, "Novelist Richard Castle would share details on his latest best seller." Melissa cheered.

XX

Marty Rogers was getting a final touch-up, but continued to banter while the sound man hooked up Castle's mike. She beamed as she talked, even off camera, "Just relax Rick. No hard balls tonight, I'll lob them in and you tell them about your writing and how you came up with the ideas for your book."

He smiled, this was not his first time on TV, he was comfortable in the environment, but his smile became serious, "Two things...most important to me, please don't ask about my daughter and, I don't want to talk about how the book ends."

"No problem. I don't talk about kids...too many nuts out there, and if they want to know the end of the book," she barked out hard laugh, "Let them buy it. But the word is out that you killed him off?"

"Yeah, but only my readers will know how."

Nine minutes later the interview was coming to an end. They had taken a break and Marty brought Castle up to speed. There was only 30 seconds for a wrap-up, and they'd be done. The producer stood by the camera man and counted down to zero and pointed his finger at Marty.

"Mr. Castle thanks for taking the time to be here tonight on," pausing for effect, "Around Town."

"My pleasure Marty." Followed by a big smile for the camera.

"So in our last few seconds, what do think of the all these videos of police brutality?"

The question caught him off guard, but he immediately thought of his many conversations with Melissa, and heard her words rolling off his tongue, as he shook his head signifying displeasure, "Like many other cities, the NYPD is simply out of control! Something need to be done and, as soon as possible."

"Thank Mr. Castle." Marty smiled as the lights dropped, signaling the end of her show.

"Wow Rick, that ought to stir up some old biddies out there on Long Island." They both laughed.

As the sound man pulled off his mike, Castle smiled to himself thinking, _Melissa w_ _ill_ _be so proud of_ _me_ _._

XX

She met him at the door, arms flying around his neck. He pulled her close buried his face in her fresh clean hair and breathed her in. She whispered, "You did so good."

"Why do you say that?" While nibbling at her ear.

"I wasn't sure you listened to me during my...you know, my rants about our wonderful system."

"I always listen to you."

"Well hopefully enough people were watching, and heard what you said, and will get after the city officials on this crazy police thing."

"Mel if they won't listen to you, they certainly won't listen to a fiction writer. But, you're always the optimist, so maybe someone was listening."

"A girl has to dream...and speaking of dreams, I want to talk to you some more about our wedding."

XX

The three men stood in silence, each sizing up the property that had recently come on the market. They were in the enviable position of being the only ones aware of it's availability, thanks to a tip from one of Castle's 'friends.'

Property like it did not come up often, especially at this 'price point', Castle smiled at the phrase, more real estate mumbo-jumbo. After the call from his agent, he contacted his two friends, Scott McCann and Frank Cotta. Even though the price was good, he knew with the added expense of upgrades, it would be too much for him to go alone. But he was not a greedy man and was happy to share opportunities with friends.

Frank Cotta spoke first, "Rick where did you find this?"

"An old buddy, Tim Fena, we go way back, is always looking out for me, thought I might be interested." All the men knew, without saying, how hard it was to find property on Manhattan that would pencil out. "I guessed we could pull off something that might have potential." Castle had turned to look at the building some more.

McCann, chimed in , "What's with the name?"

Castle let out a laugh, "Yeah, my mother says the builder had to be a patron of the arts and was probably referring to the most famous of the line, Samuel."

"Well it's got a good ring to it."

The headed inside with the key Castle had been provided. After unlocking the door, he stepped back to let Scott and Frank go first, he glanced at the plague on the marble wall, "The Beckett."

It was ironic to him, that this building had been allowed to wither, simply through lack of upkeep, but someone had lavish care on this gold oval piece of metal, with its black raised letters that declared it's identity, _The Beckett._ The plague glistened in the morning light, like a gem. He mumbled as he turned to walk inside, "Yeah! It does have a good ring."

Castle had seen the building many times before, it was only three blocks from the Old Haunt. It was worn to the numbs by the years but he had listened to his mother railing over the wisdom of Samuel Beckett the Irish writer, so the name had caught his attention. He'd been thinking the building was large enough to repair the small theater, for his mothers big ideas, and turn the remainder into commercial store fronts, maybe even land an anchor tenant of some sorts, and then convert the up-stair levels into residential apartments with a few larger lofts. He'd have to see if his partners agreed.

As with all things in life, there was a hitch, The Beckett was solely commercial with its zoning in place for decades. But Manhattan had changed since the New York's Department of Planning had made that decision back in the 50's. Like all cities there had been shifts in demographics and the use of properties. In order for the plan to work, it would require the multi-use zoning. They needed the mix of income from both the residential units and the retail spaces to make it financially sound.

A degree of clout was needed, along with an inside connection, to pull of the zone change. Castle was a friend of those in power, particularly the Mayor, so his part in making this fly, was to obtain the variance. He felt he was up to it.

His first run at the problem would take place in only days.

XX

Once a month Castle played poker with a group that included the Mayor and some of his "majesty's" buddy's, the use of the term 'majesty' was to tick him off. They'd meet in different places but always had fun. For Castle it was a chance to hear the inside stories on city politics, and as often as possible, take their money.

On this Tuesday evening in April those at the table included the Mayor, a Deputy Commissioner from 1PP, a Police Captain and Castle. The introductions were made all around and the fun began.

"Well Captain Montgomery, did His Majesty invite for you for good or for bad?" Castle offered as an opener.

Montgomery laughed, "I think it was for good. The last time I played poker with him he fleeced me out of a couple hundred bucks. This is my chance to get it back."

"Roy and I go way back, I used to beat him up in grammar school." The Mayor roared at his own taunt of Montgomery.

"That's a crock Bob and you know it! I was your body guard, you were such a wuss." Montgomery returning the volley.

"So even as a little cop you were a thug." The Mayor eyes now dancing in laughter.

"Don't give me that thug crap, I get enough of that from the media."

"Down Roy, down! Just pulling your chain." The Mayor swung a back-hand in his direction.

Terrance O'Neil the deputy commissioner chimed in, "Yeah Bob our plates are full with all the videos the press keeps running on the nightly news, and none of them are good."

Suddenly Castle felt the temperature rising in the room, and wondered if it was his night to be roasted. He decided silence was his best ally. It was short lived.

"So Rick, wasn't that you on TV a few weeks ago wanting, "something done" about the NYPD." The Mayor flashed him a cheesy, I-got-you-you-piece-of-crap smile.

Castle held up his hands, "I'm not even going to comment in a room with...the Mayor...a Commissioner and a Captain." Wagging his index finger in the air, "Do I look stupid?"

Montgomery chimed in, "Leave him alone Bob." Castle doubted that would ever happen. Maybe this wasn't going to be a poker night after all, it was looking like a night class, and he was the only student present.

"Tell me Rick, have you ever done a ride along with the police?" The Mayor questioned, while feigning innocence.

"Yeah I did a ride along a few years back, it was pretty interesting." Castle was glad to have answered properly.

"Was it day or night?" The Mayor pressed on.

"It was...a...day."

"You're a crime writer." It wasn't a question, "Is it during the day time when most crimes occur?" But before Castle could answer the next question was launched, "What about a homicide team, every work with one of them?"

"Nope!" Castle silently sighed. This was going no where good. He wanted this end so he could get on with taking every dollar this these three guys had. So he sat down his cards and looked at the Mayor, "Sir it sounds like... you have an idea, would you like to share it... then I can whoop you at this hand without too many interruptions."

There was a round of laughter. "Little sensitive tonight Rick?" More laugher, "But...I do have an idea."

"And what would that be Sir?" Sitting as straight as possible.

The Mayor looked at Captain Montgomery, "Roy why don't you tell him about our talk." Castle groaned silently, _I'm had._

"We've got a great team at the Twelfth Rick. If you had time to tag along for a few investigations, it would give you some insight into what we do and how hard of a task we face." Montgomery then turned serious, "We're getting hammered in the press, and despite a couple of bad apples, 99% of the force is made up of dedicated people who put themselves on the line everyday, for everyone in this City."

Castle was surprised, this might be the first good idea anyone had suggested to him in a long time. He didn't even stop to consider, he needed to see something new, something out of his normal routine. He hadn't written in months and couldn't see any end to the drought. "That's sounds interesting, when can I call you?"

Montgomery smiled, "How about tomorrow?"

"Will do! Now how about we get back to this game so I can relief you guys of your cash."

As they played Montgomery considered his options. The Mayor hadn't really given him any choice when they briefly talked before the game. But good PR helped everyone, so he wasn't opposed. Castle had been involved in the Mayors campaign and was a part of the inner-circle, but he had misspoken on TV and the Mayor believed he needed a little first hand education. Fortunately his best team was geared down while the lead detective took some time off. He planned to let Castle shadow the other two, after a few cases, he'd cut Castle loose. He could keep the Mayor happy, and with luck, never have to deal with his lead Detective, Kate Beckett. Richard Castle would be just a story for the others to tell while Beckett was off.

As life would have it, everyone was wrong about the future.

XX

On the drive home he considered this evenings turn of events and his willingness to follow Montgomery's people. The idea he had been mulling over, was to spend time at a hospital, just watching and see if he could come up with a start for a story, he wasn't sure what it would be. Something along the lines of Michael Crichton meets? Meets what? Well something like that. The point was he needed a catalyst, something to get his brain going. Once he jump started, everything would come together. So maybe the homicide team might also do the trick. He'd reconcile his disdain for the police, later, after all, it's fiction, not a marriage.

It was a beautiful night and as he looked out over the city, he found himself reminiscing about old TV shows. He thought about all the cop shows he'd watched and what great writers the long running shows must have had. Cop stories worked in the past, maybe it would work for him now.

But he felt the weight of another task that needed completing tonight. He had to tell Melissa. He was certain it would not be welcome news.

"You're gonna do what?" She quickly stood her hands on her hips.

Castle tried to remember the last time he'd seen Melissa this steamed, "I...I'm not sure what to say. I was sorta ordered by the Mayor to follow the police. I think he was suggesting it as penitence for my comments on the air."

"Did he say that?"

Castle choked out a laugh and looked at Melissa, her face was a mask of concentration. "Of course not! He's a politician, everything is by inference. "

"So you just agreed, without putting up a fight?"

"Think about where I was, in a room with the Mayor, a Commissioner and a police Captain. The Mayor has just reamed me for trash talking three of the four people in the room, what am I suppose do, tell them off?"

"I just can't believe you agreed! Why?"

"On the positive side, I thought it would be a chance to get an inside glimpse into a world I've never seen first hand. Heaven knows I need some ideas."

If she had started to feel sorry for him, it evaporated in an instant, she just shook her head back and forth, "You cannot do a book centered on the police...I find that tedious just saying it. You're not considering that are you?"

"Mel I've only agreed to tag along with a homicide team. That's it."

XX

When Montgomery arrived at the office the next morning, he had had a call from the Mayors office, requesting an immediate call back. He wondered if the man ever slept.

He dialed the number, expecting an aide to answer. He was wrong, it turned out it a direct line. "Sir, Roy Montgomery returning your call."

"Roy, don't be so formal, it's just me." With only a slight pause he got to the point. "I wanted to speak to you about Rick and this tag-a-long thing. My goal is let Castle see how you guys operate, how things are worked out... how thoroughly your teams operate."

"That was my intent also sir."

"Good! I was thinking, don't you still have our shining star, what's her name, Beckett working for you?"

"Yes sir, in fact my plan was to place Castle with her team."

"Excellent. I'd like to see them get along and turn Castle from a critic to an advocate for the Department. We're in this bad cycle, some outside PR would certainly help. Rick's stuck his foot in it, now he can give us a hand."

"How long do you envision this taking."

"I'd guess at least two to three months. We can touch bases as things progress, near the end, I'll meet with him and see what he's thinking, I suspect he'll be seeing things clearer. You work far to hard for any other outcome. One last thing, keep me posted." Before he could respond, the line went dead.

Montgomery spun his chair, first staring at the old blinds, then out into the a gray morning. His plan to avoid the 'Beckett problem' has just been shot down. He knew she would comply with the Mayor's wishes, but there was nothing he could do for Richard Castle. He would have to deal with Beckett. If they could work together, that would be good, if not, she would no doubt make Mr. Castle's life miserable during his brief stay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Just want to say thank you to all you readers. Also thank you for your many reviews. Again this is an AU tale, so it will be different than the canon characters. Castle is meant to be more serious in my version. The story is all written but final editing remains to be done. It will be between twelve and fifteen chapters. My hope to publish weekly. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

 **The Interview**

 **Chapter 2**

The meeting with Captain Montgomery was set for 10 AM, he arrived at 9:45. After identifying himself he was taken by a uniformed officer to a near by elevator. When they arrived on the third floor, the next stop was a private office with MONTGOMERY stenciled on the window.

The large area outside the offices was filled with desks where a dozen or so men and women sat studying computer screens or talking on the phone. None seemed to notice him. Off to the side were several rolling white boards. Each had a line in the center with intersecting lines and vertical slashes. All were neatly labeled with names, places and other notes. The top and edges were covered with pictures and intersecting lines running in all directions. He guessed they were murder boards.

His observation was interrupted by a voice he immediately recognized, "Mr. Castle right on time," the Captain extended his hand, and the two shook, "Good to see you. Take a seat."

"Nice to see you Captain." After his heated exchange with Melissa, he wondered whether this was a very good idea, regardless of his need to appease the Mayor and find new ideas for a book. He felt certain it would have a very short shelf-life and then be behind them. Nothing could be further from the truth.

"Did you get a chance to see our layout?"

"Just a glance, looks like most cop shows on TV, just...a little...tired?"

Montgomery laughed, "You're too kind. Our stuff is as old as the hills. Anyway today most of our teams are out."

"It looked pretty busy out there." His surprise evidenced by his tone and the scene before him.

"Do you know any detectives?"

"No, only from TV, sorry. When I think of tough detectives I think of ...I don't know Danny Reagan or that old guy Columbo."

Before Montgomery could respond, they were both drawn away by voices and yelling. Then he another voice yelling, "Hey grab this jerk."

From his seat Castle couldn't see anything, but Montgomery smiled, "OK, so maybe it's not that quiet."

"What was that about?" Castle was surprised by the exchange, as he turned to see the source of the commotion. Two officers were escorting a clearly upset man down a hallway jut off the offices.

"My guess is someone in interrogation got a little upset and needed to be taken down stairs, to rest in one of our jail suites, it's a pretty common event."

"Interesting. I'd like to see the 'suites.'"

"Well you have a chance for that, I'm sure. " He held up his hand and picked up the phone and barked, "Esposito, you and Ryan have a minute?"

Within 30 seconds two men stood at the Captain's door. The smaller one spoke, "Sir?"

"Ryan, Esposito, I'd like to introduce you to Richard Castle." Extending his hand, "Mr. Castle, Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan."

Castle stood and shook their hands, "Gentlemen nice to meet you."

Without hesitation the Captain started in, "At a recent meeting, the Mayor suggested Mr. Castle would benefit from shadowing a homicide team and he felt it should happen here at the Twelfth. I agreed and would like you two," now extending his hands toward the two detectives, "to let him work with you. You know let him see what we do." Montgomery smiled like he had announced the winner of a winning lottery ticket. The two detectives remained silent.

"Sir you know we're down one member for a couple of weeks, I'm not sure this is the right time. It would probably be more _instructive_ with the whole team on board."

"I am well aware you down one member, but in the meantime, you guys can get started and get Mr. Castle up to speed." Montgomery's voice was even, suggesting the discussion had just ended.

But the implication certainly did not miss Castle. "Sir, I do not want to be a burden to any of your Detective's. I can see they're very busy...I...I could call the Mayor, maybe another Precinct, or another time would be better." He was feeling like a step-child being dumped off at distant relatives house, unannounced.

"No, Mr. Castle, the Twelfth will do just fine. Unlike you, we don't receive suggestions from the Mayor, his words carry a...well lets just say... a greater weight in our world. We will not be calling him back with an alternate plan." He was not looking at Castle but instead glared at his detectives.

"Sir, I didn't mean..." Ryan spoke this time, but was stopped by his bosses raised hand.

Montgomery turned to the writer, "Mr. Castle, Detectives Ryan and Esposito will show you around. We'll figure out the duration later." Then back again to his detectives, "If you just follow them, they'll explain the current case they're working on and their procedures."

XX

Esposito spoke first, pointing at a chair near one of the desks. "Mr. Castle, if you'll take a seat there. Ryan and I need to brainstorm and we'll be with you in few minutes."

"Sounds good, I need to follow-up on a couple of emails."

The two detectives headed across the open pool of desks to what looked like a break-room. Castle could see a table, a frig and coffee counter. While they did their thing, he pondered again the events that had led him here. His thinking had gone from, "it might be a good thing," to a confrontation with Melissa that ended with accusations that he was defecting to the enemy side. In the days that followed, he found himself backing away from the research idea and deciding he just needed to get this done as quickly as possible. There was no question these men were not pleased with the intrusion and he doubted the missing team member would feel and different. Now considering Melissa's lingering anger and this cool reception, he needed this done, ASAP.

As he watched, the back-room discussion continued on longer than he anticipated, he escaped to his numerous emails and thereby detaching himself from this imposed environment.

XX

"Can you believe this?" Javier Esposito groaned, shaking his head after hearing what his Captain had just ordered. There was no doubt, they did need a tag-a-long. They were already down by one.

"Man if Beckett was here, she would have thrown a fit." Ryan was shaking his head.

"Yeah maybe. Montgomery had that...about to bite look. I not sure he had any choice either."

Ryan looked at the ceiling, "Did you notice he never mentioned Beckett, just a vague reference to a missing team member."

"Got that! I'm thinking he plans for this to be over before she's back." He paused for a second, "Let's keep her on the down low, let this guy think she's just another team member. If he's still here when she returns, we can talk to her, and then decide how to handle this fiasco."

"Do you know the back story on this guy?' Ryan asked.

"What back story?" Esposito responds with a blank look.

"You know that hot shot Public Defender, the one who thinks she's the protector of the masses, keeping her clients safe from the hands of," emphasizing with air quotes, "the man."

By the look on his face, he clearly not following, "What public defender?"

"Man, you not get any sleep last night? Remember a couple of years back, the public defender that got into it with Beckett during a trial. She was arguing against our warrant and what we found in plain sight. She ranted that it was an illegal search...and that all our evidence was 'fruit of the poisonous tree?'"

"Yeah...yeah, with you now. The Judge ruled for the us and against the defense."

"That's the one, plus I think it happened a second time about a year ago. She's a bleeding heart liberal...sees the police as a giant force of oppression."

"Still not following," Esposito offering a blank stare, "What's that got to do with him?"

"Castle's engaged to that chick! He was doing a Channel 7 interview a week or so ago and was asked about all these police videos, where the uniforms...you know are beating the crap out of people. He..."

"How do you have time to watch that?" He paused huffing his indignation, "And don't forget bro, you wore a uniform once, it's not an easy job!"

"Just listen!" Patting down his hands to calm his partner, "At the end of the interview, about some book he's just written...the host asked what he thought about the most recent police video. He tells her the police are out of control and something needs to be done."

"That's why he's here? That's it?" Esposito is now the one shaking his head.

"Yeah, plus he's buddies with the Mayor," Ryan laughs, " Looks like he's...got it in the wringer!"

"You're kidding me." Esposito shaking his head in disbelief.

"I think he's here because the Mayor is fried over his comments."

Esposito let out a cold grunt, "He should learn to shut-up, or pick better friends. So, he shoots of his mouth and _we_ have to babysit?"

"Looks that way."

XX

Ryan went out and called Castle back for some coffee. As they sat talked, they explained the way a case runs, from first call through the investigation. Both men were surprised how attentive and intense Castle seemed to be. They were also surprised at his questions. The plan, was to call him when the next "body dropped."

But Castle had a question, "If there isn't a call, what do you guys do?"

Esposito responded, "We work our existing cases and some cold ons. See if we've missed anything. Check any possible new leads, maybe make some calls."

"Could I help on those?" Castle was clearly earnest in wanting to jump in.

Both men smiled, but Ryan answered first, "Of course."

XX

On his way back to the loft, Castle called Melissa to see if she would be home in time for dinner, with he and Alexis. She answered on the second ring.

"Hey there, what are doing?" She sounded like it all was well between them again.

"Just checking to see if you'll be around in time for a little spaghetti, a salad and some French bread? Alexis is home tonight, so it will be all three of us."

"That would be great, what time?"

"Can you be in by 6:30?"

"See you then."

After Alexis was born, he'd made a rule that he would not invite a woman to stay at the loft. If Alexis or his mom were away, that was different. It was his house, but he didn't want anyone inside that inner circle. But Melissa had been an exception. They openly discussed the reasoning for earlier decision, but for her, he wanted to amend his rule, wanted her to be a part of his family. In the end, she would be Alexis' stepmother. It was a role few envied. It could be great, or terrible, and the difference was a delicate balancing of love and responsibility. It worked better than he had hoped. Melissa got along well with Alexis, and vice versa. They were not close, but there was no strain between these two very important women in his life.

Despite the new arrangement, he remained perplexed by his own internal resistance to take the next step. The dread of another marriage disaster was too much to contemplate. If he allowed himself to engage in the mental debate over it, he'd end up fighting off a bout of depression. After two runs at 'the dream,' being a three time loser would put him in a club he never wanted to join.

He loved Melissa but the 'reasoning out' of why marriage was right this time, struck him as wrong. Love was not reasoned. It was suppose to be a combustion of hearts. So why was the setting up of logical proofs for his love? In the beginning, any discussion on setting a wedding date had ended in a fight. Melissa would become uncharacteristically emotional, and scream at him. Although she was not a crier, she ended up in tears on more than one occasion. At the end of ever fight was the unspoken truth about him. He simply, was _not ready yet!_

They had finally come to an agreement and in the following spring they would have a big wedding here in the city. Her parents loved Castle and her mother was excited by the prospect of the big event. It gave them a year to work out the details. He was thankful for the time.

At 6:05 the pasta hit the boiling water, the sauce was perfect and the salad was tossed. He decided to save the garlic bread's run under the broiler until Mel arrived.

"Hey dad you never told me about your arrest today," Alexis cackled at her own humor.

"Funny girl, you know it was not an arrest, but a visit to a homicide division... at the request of our illustrious Mayor."

"That's what I said. So how was the arrest?"

Before he could answer there was a knock at the door, "I'll get it Dad."

She pulled open the door, Melissa stood with her purse over her shoulder and her arms filled with bags, "Sorry, Lex I couldn't get to my keys."

"No problem, can I help?" As she stepped back to give Melissa room.

"Nope I'm good, just grabbed some things we needed on the way home."

"Well he's crazy and in the kitchen."

"And why is he crazy tonight?"

"You know, he gets all huffy if anyone gets in, "the zone."

"You mean his cooking space?" Alexis shook her head up and down, "I've notice he's not so nice in that area." The two women laughed.

When they entered laughing, Castle looked up, "What so funny ladies?"

"Oh nothing,"Alexis replied smiling, "We were just talking about, "the zone." Her voice reflecting a deep and mysterious place.

He mimicked her, "Yeah, step in it, and die!"

Melissa laughed. "If I stay out, is there anything I can do?"

"Hey you get a pass, come kiss me," beckoning her near. She slid up next to him an bussed him with a short kiss. Then pointing to the cabinet, "If you could put plates on the table, that would be great. I need to drain the spaghetti and put the bread in the oven."

"Consider the table set."

After the meal, they chatted about each others day. Alexis returned to her earlier question. "OK Dad, so tell how was the police station today?"

Melissa's head jerked up, "You were at a police station today? Why?"

He looked slightly sheepish, "Yeah, the Mayor's thing, you remember."

"I was still hoping you could get out of it somehow."

"That was my hope, but it doesn't look like that will happen. I met with Captain Montgomery today, I've been assigned to a homicide team."

"Rick I know we talked about this, why can't you just tell the Mayor no."

"That's easier said than done. He thinks I've got blinders on but, knows I liked working with his campaign," holding his hands palms up, "What am I suppose say, no, and refuse to even see what the police do?"

"You know what they do, hell, half of them are thugs."

"Mel, it's not for long. I'll do my time and be done."

Alexis chimed in. "What was it like?"

He tried again to answer and keep it light, "There are three detectives on a team, at least the one I've been assigned to, only two were in today, the other is somewhere, I'm not not sure where."

"So what are _they_ like?

"Just regular guys. I'm going to work on some older cases with them until an active homicide comes up."

"What happens when one comes up?"

"They said they would give me a call and I'd meet them at the crime scene." He paused tamping down his excitement at the prospect, "That's a world I've never seen first hand."

"You sound like you're looking forward to seeing someone who's just been killed?" Melissa's tone was dismissive.

"No, of course not. I'm just interested in how they go about things. How the crime scene is handled? What the medical and forensic people do?"

"You sound pretty hyped to me." Again her tone flat and dismissive.

He didn't respond, knowing they had gone far enough down this road. "OK pumpkin, let's switch to something more interesting. Tell us about your day."

Eyes dancing, she launched in, "Dad you wouldn't believe some of the things those girls say about each other!" Letting out a laugh, "At least once their backs are turned."

"Do tell."

XX

The dinner was over, the plates cleared and in the dishwasher. Alexis had gone upstairs to do home work, so Castle and Melissa settled on the sofa.

"Did your trial start today?"

"We were suppose to but, as usual there were more delays. One of the Judges was away at a seminar and another was sick. We got pushed out another 90 days, my client is freaking out."

"Is there anything you can do?"

"Not at my end of the pool. It's either wait your turn or cop a plea. I refuse to let the system stomp my clients down any further, we'll wait em out." She sighed, "The Assistant DA was there making his last offer, like he was taking pity on me. I wanted to smack him."

"Melissa, you seem...really upset… is everything OK? What's going on?"

She closed her eyes and laid her head back against the sofa, "I'm...upset about your buddying up to those people. They're part of a system I spend my life fighting. If this were politics it would be like you suddenly change parties. It feels all wrong."

"I'm not changing parties. I'm doing something the Mayor asked me to do. That's all." Trying to console, but missing the mark.

"You have no ideas some of the run-ins I've had with cops at trial." Her voice laden with weariness, "They have a sense of rightness...I always have to overcome it. It's never spoken, it's just there. I think back to some of those days...I can still see the juries, like zombies swallowing it...it makes me cringe."

He sat beside her and pulled her in, "Relax, all is well."

XX

The next day Castle called Detective Ryan, who appeared as the lead between the two men. The other detective seemed, leery, even suspicious of his presence. Castle felt guilty under Detective Esposito gaze, like he'd done something wrong, he just couldn't remember what it was.

Ryan invited him down to see what they would do with an less active homicide. Ryan informed Espo, "Our observer is on the way."

Espo huffed and shook his head, "Good thing she's not here...she'd throw him out the window."

"Hey, I didn't ask, he did." Ryan shrugged.

"How long until she's back so she can end this bull?"

"I don't know, ten or twelve days."

About 10:30 Castle arrived at the precinct, after being cleared into the building, he made his way to the 3rd floor and saw the two detectives were in a discussion. He walked over and tentatively greeted them, "Good morning gentlemen." He glanced over at the stacks of files on their desks, "Looks like a lot of cases."

"Mr. Castle." Ryan smiled. Esposito remained silent.

He held up his hand, "Please not Mr. Castle, Rick or just Castle."

"OK Castle, take a seat. Let me tell you about this unsolved case. " Castle sat down and leaned forward, ready to listen.

"Is this a cold case?" Castle asked.

"No, _not_ cold, just not in the initial investigative phase. With these we look again at the evidence, review and re-work the case from beginning to the end. We often do a second or even third contact with the witnesses. It's not very exciting but, it's really more typical of police work. Honestly it's the nuts and bolts of our job...not like you see on TV."

"It sounds interesting to me, I'm a fast study...and a very fast reader, what can I do?"

He pointed to a stack of banker boxes, and took the first binder off the top, offering it to Castle. "You'll find the murder book to be most helpful. It outlines the case from beginning to end. Evidence referred to is often in a second or third binder and cross referenced in the first."

"Makes sense."

"Start at the front, read the notes and see if anything pops." Ryan open the binder he'd just handed Castle. "This case involves a 45 year male Caucasian who was walking his dog between 11pm and midnight on December the 16th. His employer confirmed his work schedule was from 1 pm to 9:30 pm. It would have taking him approximately 30 minutes to get from work to home, using the subway. He didn't own a car and had an active subway pass. We allowed time for him to shop and eat a meal, so, walking the dog at 11 pm makes sense."

"He was found at 12:45 am, the dog had been hit with a taser, but the vic died from blunt force trauma to the head, probably a pipe of some sorts. No weapon was ever found."

Esposito finally jumped in, "We interviewed all the neighbors, no one saw or heard anything. There's no video since it's a residential neighborhood and there's just no street cams around."

Ryan picked up again, "We're nowhere. Don't even have a suspect. We're guessing it had something to do with the dog. The guys wallet and keys were found on him. Which means, it was not a robbery."

Castle finally spoke, "What's all this paper?" Pointing at a stack nearly four inches tall.

"It's our interviews and then background checks. Again, nothing came up."

"Can I read them?"

Ryan suppressed a smile and looked at the stack but Esposito spoke, "Have at it Castle, there's nothing there."

They moved him over to one of the desks. He made himself comfortable, scooting things around to make space. He even raised the chair, and finally pushed the monitor to the far edge.

Ryan looked up at Esposito, and flicked his head toward Castle, working at Beckett's desk. They both watched him moving the things about and chuckled, "He better be gone before she gets back. I'm telling you, she's gonna shoot him on the spot." Ryan just shook his head.

Around 1:30 he felt someone standing near the desk, Ryan stood over him, "You getting hungry?"

"Yeah, I am. What do you guys do for food?"

"There's a burger place near we're about to run over there if you're interested."

"I'm in."

XX

It was a three block walk. The place was called Remy's. Castle had taken Alexis there a couple of times in the past. She loved the real ice cream milkshakes, it made him smile at the memory of her ice cream mustaches.

"Hey Castle you ever been here before?"

"Yeah, I have with my daughter, she really, really like the shakes here."

Espo nodded his head in acknowledgment, "Our MIA partner has a weak spot for those...so what's it gonna be?"

A few minutes later the waitress arrived, "Oh oh, do I need to call the police?'

"Cute Gloria, real cute!"

She looked at Castle for a few beats, "You trade Beckett in for this handsome gentlemen?"

"Beckett's on vacation, this is Rick Castle, he's observing the Dynamic-Duo in action."

Gloria laughed, "According to my sources, its more like, Tweedledee and Tweedledum."

"Hey, has Beckett been trashing us?"

"My lips are sealed gentlemen! What'll it be?"

With orders placed and Gloria on her way, they returned to small talk but when the conversation stalled, Esposito decided to play with the tag-a-long, "So Castle, anything interesting in those files you been reading through."

"Not sure, but something kinda struck me on that Martinson case."

"Like what? We've been over that file a dozen times," Ryan leaned in offering honest curiosity.

"I've been reading the witness statements and then some of the background information you've dug up."

"And?" Esposito sounding slightly defensive, but Castle was too focused to notice.

"Four doors down from Martinson's place is a neighbor named Akulian."

Ryan offers, "Yeah I interviewed him, he was asleep since he starts work at 5:00, the other neighbors confirmed his early departures."

"I saw that, but there was a note under his medical history of schizophrenia. Then a second entry that said in 2007 he was treating but, his GAF at the time was only 40."

Esposito puts his hands up and scrunches his face, "What the hell's a GAF?"

"In one of my books I was going to have a schizophrenic play a major part. In my research it came up that schizophrenics have a significantly lower Global Assessments of Function, a GAF, than the general public. It's about how they fit in, and they struggle."

"So this score, whatever, was more than a year before the murder."

"That's true but as you know, schizophrenia is not like having the flu, it doesn't just go away. People who suffer from it have learn to live with it. Based on my research, they treat and hopefully take their medication."

"What are..." But before Ryan could finish, the waitress arrived with their food. Everyone dove in.

When they returned to the Twelfth, Castle went back and continued reading, but within five minutes Ryan slid into the chair across from him. "OK Castle, tell me what you think about this GAF thing."

Castle didn't speak immediately, so Ryan pushed, "Do you have an idea?"

"I was just thinking, what if this guy was off his meds? What if he snapped? You know maybe the dog was bugging him. Maybe it's happened more than once. It could have been a perfect storm waiting to happen...it's just a guess." Castle looked embarrassed over his own speculation. They were the cops he wasn't.

"No, it's not. It's the first good clue of anything on this case. We need to talk to Akulian, but first we'll check with his employer again, see if there was _any_ missed time in the weeks before the murder...or any other problems at work."

XX

Two days later Esposito and Castle went to visit Akulian's employer. Since Ryan had done the initial interview they decided to be safe with some new faces, in case Akulian saw them at the plant. HR confirmed Mr. Akulian had missed a number of days in the weeks and months before the date of the murder in December. On the morning following the death of Martinson, Akulian had come to work on time but reported he was ill, and left about two hours after his 5:00 am arrival.

After the visit to the employer, Ryan and Esposito waited until 2:30 that afternoon and picked him up for questioning. Castle was allowed to watch from behind the mirrored glass. He was fascinated.

Within an hour Akulian's story began to unravel. He said no one had asked him about his past, or his medical condition. He acknowledged he struggled with treatment. He would start to feel fine and reasoned he didn't need the medicine. He'd stop and things would become increasingly difficult. Yes, it had caused him to miss some time at work while he got himself re-regulated.

Before the interview Ryan had returned to the neighborhood and spoke with several witnesses. They reluctantly admitted Akulian tended to be moody and sullen. He stayed to himself most of the time but there had been a couple of run-ins over noise with neighbors, especially since he retired early in order to leave for work around 4:30 am.

During one of the breaks Castle met with the detectives and listened to their plan. They were fearful Akulian would lawyer-up. It was obvious he was becoming more and more nervous, as well a suspicious. They decided to fish with some questions about the dog and the taser. Castle returned to observation room to watch.

Ryan started, "Mr. Akulian, how well did you know Mr. Martinson?"

"I...you know saw him around." Castle could see the man's eyes began to dart around the room.

"Did you like him?

"He was OK?"

"Did you like his dog?"

"No!" The answer popped out to fast, "I mean... it was too big for our area, and it barked."

Esposito casually asked, "Have you ever seen a taser gun?"

Akulian stood immediately, "You said you had a couple of things to clear up, I've been here nearly two hours." Wiping his hand through his hair, "Why are you asking all these questions?"

Esposito tried to calm him, "Sir, relax, sit back down, we're just trying to fill in some pieces on Mr Martinson's death."

"I hated that dog...it barked constantly...drove me crazy...I needed to sleep...needed to rest, or everything comes unglued." He paused and looked at his hands, shoulders slumping, "I just wanted to talk him...tell him to do something...but..."

"But what sir?," Ryan spoke in almost a whisper.

"I...I had tried in the past...but he'd just go off...so I got the taser...just in case...I just wanted him to know I was serious...the dog dropped like it was dead...he said nothing...just rushed at me...I...I had pipe in my other hand to ward him off if he got crazy again...and then...he was just lying on the ground."

Castle sat stunned at the confession. Stunned at the loss. A man was dead over a mis-communications about a dog. He just sat. He startled when he heard the door to the observation room open, "Castle, hey man, you OK?" For once Esposito's voice had no edge. He too seemed surprised at how this had gone down.

"Yeah...I...I just didn't expect that." He sat quite for couple of more beats, "I thought this would be some big vengeance thing, I don't know, but this...this was just a mess, over a dog. How could it go this wrong?"

"Yeah, it was" He moved nearer, "Castle," he looked up at the man. "You did really good. The Captain is going to be very pleased."

"Thanks...I just can't believe it came down to this."

"Hey, welcome to the strange land of homicide. Let's call it a day."

As Castle turned to leave he could see a broken Mr. Akulian being led away.

XX

Alexis heard the sound of the keys tapping from her dad's office. She walked in and found him staring at the screen, fingers dancing across the keys. He stopped when he heard her enter.

"Hey pumpkin, how are you?"

"Dad, you're writing...kinda ferociously there!"

"Just making notes."

"Well if the notes look like your face, they're not happy ones."

"Yeah, it was a hard day. We solved a murder, but it was nothing like what I expected."

She plopped on the sofa across from his desk, "Tell me what happened."

He rolled his head back and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, "This guy worked in a plant and rode the subway each day. He couldn't afford a car. He suffered from schizophrenia, had trouble staying on his meds, trouble sleeping and trouble with his neighbor."

When Castle finished the story and what had given him the first clue, Alexis was surprised at how sad the whole tale was, but, was excited that her dad had so quickly helped solved the murder.

"You know dad, you might have missed your calling, you should've been a cop."

He laughed and gave her a hug, "If you say that out loud in this house, I could be the next one dead. Keep that idea to yourself."

"My lips sealed. I'm going to bed."

"Sleep tight my love." She bussed the top of his head.

"Love you Dad."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N - Thank you for your many reviews and followings. I appreciate each of you taking the time to read and respond to my story.**

 **I want to thank my resident-beta, SLJ for putting up with me, but also for encouraging me to write and always offering her insights.**

 **A special thanks to EB Fiddler, for beta work and a keen insight into what makes a story work.**

 **Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

 **The Interview**

 **Chapter 3**

It had been a wonderful vacation. For once in her life Kate Beckett felt no compulsion to return to work. She could get use to late mornings and this leisurely beach life. She just hadn't come up with a way to finance it. Certainly this paradise didn't need another snorkel shop or coffee house. She tried to lie still but fidgeted with the cold reality: this was their last day. She glanced over at her boyfriend as he struggled to wake-up. Finally he mumbled, "What time is it?"—more slurred than his usual speech.

"9:15."

More awake, he yawned, "We're bums, you know that, don't you?"

"Hey, I could be a bum."

He rolled over and faced her, "I doubt that. You're hard wired for action. You've already started to twitch. "

"I have not!"

"Yeah, Kate, you have."

"Fine, I'd like to be able to be a bum."

"Next life"—pulling her hand to his lips for a kiss.

"I'm that bad?"

"No, you've done really well, for Kate Beckett."

"Ugh, sounds like a disease, when you say my name that way."

"Not a disease." When he spoke again, the levity had disappeared. "I need to ask you something."

She took a deep breath. She was fearful of where this would go, but had been expecting it. The statement, _I need to ask..._ always meant the topic was somewhere she didn't want to go, something about letting him into her life, getting married, committing to a long-term relationship. It always struck her in the exact same way: she wanted to run. Instead she offered, "I'm all ears," trying to sound as light as possible.

"It's not a hard question Kate." He paused, feeling her tensing up. "Where do you see us a year from now? Another vacation?"

She let out a small laugh, "I could do another vacation here, no problem at all."

"Kate! I'm 36 years old, a cop and...and I want to know where we're going, and, are we going together?"

"Tom, I don't know. I've had a good time...we get along well."

"Kate, we intersect well, we don't even _live_ together and, the one thing we never talk about is the _future_ _"—_ loading the last word with great weight.

She ignored his final point and tried to move to something more neutral. "We don't live together because we're all over the place schedule wise, plus I'd be hard to live with, trust me."

He folded his hands on his chest and let out a sigh. "Kate, I want to be married, want kids..."

Before he could add more to the list, she jumped in,"Tom, I'm just not ready for that..." She moved her focus away, through the sliding glass door next to their bed, out to the beach and then the ocean, only steps away.

"Kate, do you love me?"

She turned and looked at him, speechless under the question. She sat up, pulled back her hair and spun it into loose knot. "I don't know how to answer that, Tom."

"You just did"—his tone signaling defeat, but also edging on anger.

"That's not fair Tom! Just because I don't have an answer doesn't mean I don't care. Love and being in love, is very important to me; I don't take it lightly. Not knowing, is not loving. It's a matter of the heart...and mine has always been reluctant. I struggle with this, and you know that."

"How long Kate? How long?"—still unable to mask his frustration.

XX

The alarm sounded and pierced her sleep. She struggled— where was she? What time was it? The sound was a hand pulling her from a dream. It was a work day, she was alone, and exhausted. Then her thoughts shifted to their argument and the shadow it cast over their last day together. He wanted what she did not have to offer. Not yet. She would not lie. She cared too much to pretend. She needed time.

She stepped into the shower. The blast of warm felt great, helped the thaw. Dressing quickly she headed to the kitchen for her quick cup of coffee and a nuked bowl of oatmeal. Minutes later she was out the door.

Ryan and Esposito agreed to be in by 7:15 on her first morning back, unless they got a call on a body dropping. They knew Beckett would show up around 7:30, and they wanted to be there when she arrived.

The elevator door pinged at 7:35, she strolled in and was surprised to see her guys hard at work. "Hey, what are you two doing here so early?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I know your name, wait you're the new cleaning person, right?" Ryan laughed.

"How bout we go to the gym and I _clean_ your clock? Best out of three?" Her smile was wide and warm.

"Wait, it's...it's Detective Beckett, you used to work here?"

She turned away from Ryan, "Espo, how are you?"

"I'm good. Ignore him, he missed you."

She shook her head and headed to her desk. After turning on the computer, she stopped and looked up at the pair. Both men sat still and staring, waiting. "Who's been using my desk? Everything's been moved!"

Ryan turned to Esposito but said nothing, just smiled .

After a beat Espo spoke, "We need to talk."

"About my desk?"—shaking her head—"No one touches my desk"—huffing at the intrusion.

"Beckett, let's have some coffee. We'll bring you up to speed." He stood and pointed to the break-room.

XX

She took a couple of minutes but then followed them. They stood, leaning against the counter. "OK spill"—her hands planted on her hips.

"Well.." Ryan stopped, glancing sideways at Esposito.

"What already!"—feigning a cranky tone—"I've been here five minutes and I'm already getting antsy."

He started again, "The Captain...ah, he assigned this guy to join our team..."

"What guy? You telling me I've been replaced?"—her hand waving in the air—"for going on vacation?"

"No, no, not that kind of assignment, just a...a tag-a-long, you know, someone to observe. He's been with us for the last ten days."

She shook her head and frowned, "Why would the Captain do that when I'm gone?"

"Actually, he didn't do it. I mean he did it but it was the Mayor who directed him...to do it."

"OK, before you go any further. What happened to my desk?"

Espo assumed the sheepish strain, "Ah, he needed a place to work and you were..."

"What, MIA?" Her glare was back, and now in full-on mode. "Why would _he_ move everything?"

"Ah, he's kinda big."

"Well he's gone now, right?"

Silence.

She shook her head more, shoulders slumped. "Really, you've got to be kidding me"—turning to scan the pool area—"Where is he?"—defeat creeping into her voice.

"He's not here. He's waiting for us to call. We worked on some unsolved and he helped, and that's why he was at your desk," Esposito offered matter-of-factly.

"That's not all quite all of it...he...ah, solved one of the cold cases," Ryan said, trying to but failing to inadvertently offer the information.

Beckett paced and huffed, "You're telling me, a ride-a-long figured out one of our unsolved cases?" She shook her head in disbelief, "Give me a break."

"Beckett, he did," Esposito offered without apology. He then explained the way Castle had tied Akulian's GAF number and intermittent treatment together. After some more digging and a couple more interviews Akulian caved during their second round of questioning.

"Who is this guy?"

"He's a writer...you know, does mystery stuff. So he has some experience with what we do."

"And does _he_ have a name?"—her hands returning to her hips, her glare still locked in place.

"Yeah, Castle, Richard Castle."

Her mouth dropped open, but nothing came out at first. She must have misunderstood. Her mom's favorite writer, how could be he be here? "Say that again."

"Richard Castle, the writer."

She pushed aside the surprise, along with the thoughts of her mom. "Well, call him. I'd say it's time for me to meet _your_ new partner."

XX

The Captain had seen Beckett and the boys go into the break room. When they exited she had on her pained looked. He'd seen it a million times. He stepped out and barked, "Beckett, my office."

The dutiful Detective crossed the room to her boss's office. While she had teased Esposito about being replaced, on some level she felt betrayed. She never took vacations and when she finally did, an outsider moved in on her turf and showed her up. This non-cop had helped break a case she and her team could not. She expected the wrath of Montgomery and although she had been in the less than an hour, she felt like she had it coming.

"Captain! Good morning sir"—standing a foot or two behind the guest chairs.

"Beckett, sit, you look good." He smiled warmly, "Tanned and rested. You know what this means?"

"No, I don't"—feeling even more uncertain.

He laughed, "Lighten up. It means you're gonna start vacationing. I _like_ my people rested and ready to do their jobs. So start planning another one"—looking down at something on his desk, then up at her—"so I don't have to order you."

"Sir, I..."

"Relax, Beckett, allow me. I know why you look like you swallowed a cat. Between the presence of Mr. Castle and the Martinson case, well, welcome back."

She tried again, but was stopped by his raised hand. "Nothing's changed and there's nothing to worry about. The only thing the solved case tells me is you guys need rest from time to time. You work hard. Your team is relentless, but _you_ need to rest! And w _e_ need fresh eyes on things. The fact that an outsider figured this out in just a day, tells me we need to sort some things out. We need to think about the value of another set of eyes on what we've looked at over and over." He paused again, watching his detective still look defeated. "This is not about a failure, it's just about how we can do the job better."

She followed him to the case. "I'm still surprised we missed the schizophrenia, the GAF thing."

"Mr. Castle said he'd read up on it for something he was writing; it just caught his eye."

"Sir, speaking of Mr. Castle, how did he end up here?"

Now the Captain shook his head. "The Mayor and he are friends and he shot off his mouth at the end of a TV interview. So, the Mayor is teaching him a lesson."

"With us at the Twelfth?"

"With the police in general, but at our precinct specifically. As you know, the Mayor and I grew up together, I just happened to be near when it hit the fan for Mr. Castle. Call it bad Karma for me."

She smiled at the Karma pun, knowing her Captain didn't believe in it. "Well, Ryan and Esposito seem less offended by him than I would have expected."

"He's fit well. He's on the quiet side and appears to be very interested in us. He's taking his medicine without complaining." He paused and looked off into space, then back at her. "I don't need to tell you to not burn Mr. Castle, or your boss, do I, Detective?"

"No, sir. Of course not, I understand. But I have a question: how long do you think this will last?"

"Not too long." But he thought, _It depends on you, Mr. Castle and the Mayor._

XX

She was at her desk re-organizing when he stepped off the elevator. He didn't seem to notice anyone but Ryan and Esposito. The three men chatted briefly, then Espo stood and pointed towards Beckett. For the first time he looked at her. She was immediately taken aback by his smile and vibrant blue eyes. His book cover pictures were good, but they failed to capture the person walking towards her.

"Beckett, this is Richard Castle. Castle, this is our team leader."

He extended his hand. "Good morning, Detective."

"Mr. Castle"—her tone flat and cool.

Esposito seemed at a loss for words for a few seconds. "Castle, Beckett's been off for a few days of R&R."

"Hope you had a good time." His face honest but neutral.

"It was good." Turning to Esposito, she continued, "Javi, do what you need to do. I'd like to get acquainted with Mr. Castle." Turning back to the writer—"Can I offer you some of our wonderful coffee?"

He smiled at the joke, "Of course."

She poured each a cup of coffee, "Well, you've met my men and have done some work with them. Since I was away, I thought we should meet and talk before the next call comes in."

"I understand. I've had a good time with them, learned a lot."

They discussed how the temporary arrangement would work best and covered the things Ryan and Espo had talked about when he first came in. "Since I'm the initial contact from dispatch, I call the team and give the location. We dive in...nothing is changing except who will be calling."

"Sounds good."

"Do you live alone or with someone?"

Castle didn't hesitate. "Not alone. I have a fifteen year old daughter and my fiancée also lives with me. Oh, and my mother is in and out." Castle had explained this to Esposito and Ryan, but unlike them Beckett did not smirk. But she had no idea he had a daughter.

"So, you know the hours can be weird and I might be calling you in the middle of the night or texting. Is that a problem?"

He smiled for the first time, "Not at all. I raised my daughter alone, I'm used to late night calls."

"That's it then. I need to get to work, much to do after a couple of weeks away." But as she turned to leave, Castle cleared his throat. She turned back to look at him.

"Detective can I have a word?" She stopped and turned around.

She first looked at her watch. "Sure, what is it?"—trying to hide her impatience and thinking, _I'm 20 minutes into this interruption between him and the boys...I need to get to work. Now._

"I want to apologize for this mess. I did not ask to be foisted onto you and your team. Interactions with powerful people have pluses and minuses, side effects. The Mayor was angry about a comment I made during an interview. My punishment was to follow the police, and the lot fell to your team."

"I know about the interview," she replied, but added no comment.

"Great!" Castle shook his head, "Damn media."

For the first time Beckett laughed, "You got that right."

"I intend to make my stay as brief as possible. But I want to let you know, if you need me...you know, to be _unavailable_ for something...just tell me. I can get lost or just not show up."

"That'll work. Thank you. "

"What is your cell phone number, Detective?" She rattled off her number and waited while he entered it.

"And yours, Mr. Castle?" He handed her a card with his number, trying to ignore her obvious chaffing.

"Before you leave." She turned to look at him, he had his phone extended and snapped the picture. She groaned.

"What's that for?"—her frown signaling her displeasure.

"I like people's faces to pop up on my phone, seems more personal...and, I'm sorta blind."

"So which is it? Personal or blind ?"—pushing at him.

"Mostly blind." She smiled at the candor.

XX

She awoke her second day back, not at 5:30, but at 4 am. Despite her attempts, she could not fall back to sleep. She found herself pulling a book of poetry from her shelf in the living room, and curling up with a blanket to read. The words of Keats poured out:

 _When I have fears that I may cease to be_

 _Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain…._

She stopped reading. Why was her brain teeming this day? What was so vexing? So interruptive of her sleep? She read on, and then paused at the lines:

 _When I behold, upon the night's starred face,_

 _Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance…_

And then,

 _And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,_

 _That I shall never look upon thee more,_

 _Never have relish in the faery power_

 _Of unreflecting love – then on the shore._

She, and her heart, skidded to a stop at the piercing words. An aching wave surged through her, filling her with sadness and fright, that she has missed some great thing, some great love. It scared her on a level wholly unfamiliar to herself. She returned to the recent conversation with Tom, only days ago now. She considered her own holding back, keeping him at arms length – or was it really a heart's length. She thought of the unseen hand that restrained her, which seemed unwilling to let her let go. But what she felt then, and what she experienced in these early morning hours, were completely different. She laid her head back, trying to sort out the conflicting and puzzling emotions.

It sounded like a thud, or a door slamming, and she startled awake, sitting up straight. Her eyes popped open. The clock on the wall read 8:20. She swore, threw the blanket to the floor and fled for the shower.

XX

Detective Beckett sat at her desk, wondering how this many emails could accumulate in just two weeks. She had been back for three days, and the number of unread messages was increasing, not going down. As she watched the counter click upward her level of frustration followed on an invisible parallel path. With this battle raging in her head, she saw a pair of legs stop in front of her desk. Without looking up she growled, "What!" It was not a question.

"Is this a bad time for you?" Castle was inclined to step back but held his ground.

She looked up and set down her pen. "Castle! What are you doing here? I didn't call."

"I know." But before he could say more, she pointed at the chair beside her desk. He sat.

She took a deep breath. "First, I forgot to say thank you for your work on the Martinson case."

"You're welcome, but I'm not sure I did much. I just noticed the GAF number."

"True, but you knew what it meant. You knew what was behind that number, especially when coupled with Akulian's condition. Good work."

He raised his eyebrows acknowledging her analysis. "Maybe it was just your desk."

"My desk?"—her voice inflected with surprise.

"Yeah, you know, a vibe, or...good juju."

"Good juju, you're kidding me!" She laughed so loud the boys looked over at them, she waved it off.

"Not really. You're the detective, not me."

"Well, juju or not, thanks for helping." She turned and faced him squarely, "I have a question."

"OK"—his eyes bright like a front row student.

"When you drive someone's car, and you adjust the seats or the mirrors, do you put them back?"

"Ah, I don't borrow people's cars...but this is not about a car, is it?" She said nothing, but smiled slightly, then just raised her head and looked down her nose at him. He continued, "I'm sorry I moved the things on your desk. I didn't know it was your desk, and I..."

Now she was embarrassed for putting him on the spot. She knew she was just being cranky, and he was the first one to venture into her lair. "Don't worry about it, Castle." Without missing a beat—"Why are you here? Did we have a body drop and someone else called?"

"No, I just...I don't know, my teeming brain just needed out. I feel like I'm about to pop, and I thought I could help on one of the unsolved cases."

His words made her feel like she had just stepped into the _Twilight Zone_. She didn't believe in coincidences. He'd just quoted from the poem she'd read the day before. The intersection of reading and quoting was so weird, it made the room feel like it had slipped five degrees off-kilter. "Did you say teeming brain?"

"Yeah, but they're not my words. The poet Keats uses them in one of my favorite poems, but they sum up what goes on in my head. There are times I feel like I can't turn off my brain and need to get things down on paper."

"I think I've heard the poem before," she lied, not willing to tell him of her recent encounter with Mr. Keats.

He did not detect her dilemma. "There's much more to the poem than the 'teeming brain' idea. It also talks of missing out on the important things in life, the important one in life, when times steals all we are…"

"What's it called?"

"When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be."

"I'll have to read it." She sat up straighter and turned her eyes to the stack of files. "Let's find you a case or two to look at; there's another desk empty today. Can you be good if I let you use it?"

He smiled, "Yes, Detective Beckett."

She watched him work. She wanted to run out into the street and scream, _I'm going nuts. I read poems...and he quotes them to me. What is going on? Are they going to throw me in the rubber room? Am I time tripping? Who is this guy?_

XX

Things remained relatively quiet for the next week or so. But with New York City's low death rate, with a population of over 8 million people and about one murder per day, it was not that unusual. There were many precincts and many teams besides theirs at the Twelfth. So they worked on unsolved cases and Castle joined in to learn what he could, and to complete his 'service.'

If asked, he would admit he'd almost forgotten about the Mayor. He liked the interaction of the team, the way they thought about things and how they pursued the investigations. He enjoyed Esposito and Ryan, even after the bumpy start with Espo.

Beckett was another thing. It worked out that he teamed with her, while Ryan and Esposito focused on other segments of the investigations. But it was clear to him she was the leader. She was smart and had been put in the position for a reason. Her rise through the ranks was not simply the NYPD promoting for the sake of numbers: she was good and she was committed. Still he sensed that his presence was tolerated by her. He knew she was restraining her real feelings about him tagging along. He was just another detour she had to deal with to complete her job. He took solace in the fact that he'd soon be gone, a footnote for Team Beckett and the Twelfth.

XX

It was nearly midnight, but she was still awake. She needed to get to bed. The alarm at 5:30 the next morning would not wait. Normally by this time, she'd be sagging into bed, unable to resist the tug of sleep, exhaustion winning out over her busy brain. But not tonight.

She was slouched on the sofa, legs extended onto the coffee table. Instead of sleeping she was musing about 'the interruption, the obstacle,' to catching up on two weeks of emails and endless paper work. But as she studied the books on her nearby shelf, she was having trouble distinguishing any titles except his. He had torpedoed her day with questions and his constant presence, and was now interrupting her evening, making himself an impediment to much needed sleep.

His books had always been special to her. They were a link to her past. They'd been therapy for loss, therapy against the demons following her mom's death. She could enter his stories, like visiting a park, and there take refuge for a few hours. She admired his style and the way he manipulated the readers, leading them along, playing with their emotions, feeding the urge to get to the next page. But what she had admired early on was his unspoken respect for women. His female characters were strong, even in the worst of situations. They were never just props for his story. He never discarded them like something left over. She knew of his mother, but today she learned a little more about his daughter and put together a truth about Richard Castle: every female character was someone's daughter for him and even a a 'broken character' story was written with dignity.

She crossed paths with many types in her work. She found the bigger than life people to, in fact, be smaller than life. They flourished, but only in the awe of their own orbits. As long as they remained at the center of all things, they were happy campers. Turn off the lights, the cameras, and she'd seen them morph into insipid bores. But Richard Castle was the opposite. He could stand the close scrutiny of a quiet conversation. He didn't need to tell stupid stories, or toss out funny lines to shift the focus to his wit. He listened, considered and then asked questions. His eyes brightened in curiosity, and he seemed to retain a wonder for things.

She decided, as sleep began to drain her remaining energy, that she could endure, no maybe even enjoy, this short tag-a-long partnership with Richard Castle.

XX

It was Friday night, date night for Castle and Melissa. They vowed to reserve one night a week to go out and set aside their busy lives, to simply focus on each other. They did crazy things, out of the ordinary things. One of Castle's weaknesses was ice cream, and while there were many specialty shops and gourmet creameries, he was most happy with the soft ice cream vendors near Bryant Park. It was not unusual for them to end up there and just watch the crowds. They'd laugh about the variety of people, listening to the numerous languages being spoken as the visitors milled past.

Other times they'd go to Battery Park and just roam with the crowds, while watching the ferries make the short trip back and forth to the Statue of Liberty. With baseball caps and frumpy coats, they were guaranteed the anonymity the rest of their fellow travelers enjoyed.

On this night they ended at a small restaurant in Chelsea, and after dinner headed home. What made the night special, was a change in plans. Melissa intended to work the weekend on trial prep, but late on Friday afternoon the DA had dropped charges against her client. The three day trial was set to start on Monday, but that was now canceled. They could extend this dinner and evening into a relaxing weekend.

They returned to the loft. Castle made popcorn and they started watching a movie.

At 9:50 his cell phone rang. "Mel can you reach that phone for me?"

As she leaned forward and picked it up she saw the face of Kate Beckett. Castle had plopped his feet to the floor and sat up, leaning against her. Melissa was frozen. He took the phone from her hand, and swiped to answer. "Detective" was all he got out.

Melissa could hear the woman's voice. "Castle there was a shooting at 41st and Fifth, one down. You joining us?"

He paused for only a second, "Yeah, on my way," and ended the call.

He turned to look at Melissa; her eyes were wide. "What's _her_ picture doing on your phone?"

"I put it there. You know I can't read the number. I needed to know when it's her calling and not some nut." He pulled at his shoes, "I told them I'd be available for their next call."

She sat up also, her voice strained. "I've got time off, and you're running off with the _police_."

"Mel, we've talked about this. I didn't ask for it. The sooner I get through it, the sooner it will be done."

"I don't understand you sometimes. You always say I work too much. And now, when I have time, you leave to go work with the very people that victimize my clients."

"Melissa, that's not true, and it's not reason I'm going. You know I like the work with the Mayor. It's given me some great contacts. Not many people get to be on the inside of New York City. This is some of the payback for the inside track. I don't like it, but it will be done in a flash. Trust me."

He stood and then bent to kiss the top of her head. "I need to get on a coat and run."

Five minutes later Melissa sat alone on the big sofa. He was gone. She could not believe this was happening, or that he was actually working with _them._ It was her turn. She pulled on her shoes, grabbed her coat and let herself out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for reading as well as your reviews. Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **As always, a thank you to my betas SJ and EBFiddler - in helping me tell this story. Madreag.**

* * *

 **The Interview**

 **Chapter 4**

The lights from the police cruisers threw shards of light across the streets and off the windows of the nearby buildings. Castle approached the police line and asked the uniform if he could contact Detective Beckett.

"This is a crime scene, no one's allowed in."

"Detective Beckett just called and told me to meet her here."

"Sorry, there's a lot going on back there. You'll have to wait for her. Meanwhile, please step away from the tape."

Castle turned and started to walk, not sure where to go. The street was blocked and he couldn't just slip around. He pulled out his phone and hit the send button.

"Beckett."

"It's Castle, they won't let me in."

"Where are you?" She sounded busy or, he thought, maybe annoyed at the interruption.

"Police line on 41st." His response was all business. He was here because of the Mayor, it didn't matter what she thought. He should be home with his fiancée.

"I'll be right there."

He headed back toward the same officer. When the officer saw him approach he raised his hand. "Sir I told you, only crime team is allowed."

Castle pointed over the cop's shoulder to Beckett who was quickly approaching, her heels clacking on the pavement.

She walked up and held out her shield. "Thanks for your help officer, but he's with me."

The uniform said, "Sorry Detective, I didn't know."

"No worries, you're doing your job. Thank you. " She lifted the tape and pulled on Castle's sleeve.

They walked in silence for about 30 yards. There was more tape and a makeshift tent that shielded the victim and the incident team from onlookers.

Beckett spoke to the woman kneeling over the victim, "Hey Lanie, got anything for me?"

Castle stood slightly behind Beckett and felt his pulse click up as he peered into this world - up close. What he heard was not what he expected. "How about a punch in the nose. You see these clothes, do they look like ME clothes? I'm out on the town, living, like you know, the living. And what do you do? Call me just because somebody gets dead. You're killing me Kate, killing me."

"Apparently the perp didn't get my mass email to all murderers: flash, no killings between 8pm and 1am, ME has a _hot one_ on the line."

"You know what I'm saying." Then without missing a beat, she added, " We've got a 45 to 55 year old male Caucasian, single GSW to the back of the head. Based on my preliminary temperature check, he's been dead for one hour. COD is...you guessed it, the head shot."

"Thank you. Oh, Lanie, this is Rick Castle, he's working a few cases with us." Extending her hand toward the ME, she continued, "Castle, this is Lanie Parrish, one of our ME's."

"Nice to meet you, Doctor." He did not extend his hand, since she was gloved up and obviously busy.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Castle, and please, just Lanie."

Beckett turned and pointed toward Espo and Ryan. "Let's see if they've got anything."

As she turned to walk away the ME called out, "Beckett! A minute?"

She looked at Castle and held up her hand. "I'll be right back."

"Did you find something else?" Beckett's face reflected her intensity.

"Really? You show up with Richard Castle on your arm and you can't tell me? When and where did you find _him_ _,_ Katharine Beckett?"

"Is that what you wanted?" She was trying to act impatient, but loving the conversation.

"Damned straight! What am I chopped liver, the last one to know anything?"

"It's his first active case with us. I'll have to call you." She turned to look at Castle; his back was to them.

"It's his books that line your shelves, right?"

"Shut up Lanie," she hissed lowly, "do not let him hear that!"

"Well, you better call me sometime in the next 24 hours."

"I will, I will, I promise. I may see you in a few anyway."

"Works for me girl. _My_ date," pointing to the victim, "is not going anywhere."

When she returned to Castle, he waited for her direct them to whatever was next.

As they walked, she explained, "You'll notice we have a group of people down 42nd Street, near that McDonald's ; Javi will lead the general questioning of them. The uniforms have spread out and are working back toward the shooting zone. Their work is to pick up any straggler witnesses, someone who might have seen something, and in many cases not even know it. Make sense?"

"Yeah, it does."

"OK, Ryan is checking all available video, ATM cams, security cams...any source that might have captured the event or the general ingress or egress around the shooting site."

Castle ventured his first question, "Have you started formulating a theory on what happened?"

"Sorta?" She was interrupted by the ambulance pulling away with its lights on low flash, no siren. He waited but she added nothing more.

"Castle, let's start over there," she said, pointing him in the direction of Esposito and a group of uniforms. "See if they have anything."

By the time the rounds had been made, they had gathered a few statements from several witnesses. It was looking like a homeless person was either involved or arrived at the scene just as it went down. That meant it was time to move from the streets and sidewalks into any nearby alleys.

He followed Beckett into places so dark, he wouldn't have ventured into them under any circumstances. He was 6' 2" and weighed 210 pounds, but doubted she even weighed 125 pounds. Despite the seedy environment, she charged on, pulling out loose pieces of cardboard or anything that even looked like a shelter. She searched around dumpsters and enclaves, anywhere a person might hide. It also surprised him that she didn't pull her gun; instead she relied on a penlight to do the job.

Castle decided he'd follow the same reasoning. She seemed comfortable at the task, so why shouldn't he help? He started to drift fifteen to twenty feet behind her, looking on the opposite side of the alley. He could hear the dropping of a bottle from time to time, followed by the sound of it rolling and then stopping, but he never saw anyone. Then silence would start to engulf the dark lane like a fog. He startled once when he heard a cough. She turned and hit him with the penlight. "What are you doing?"

"Just looking."

In a low tone she responded, "I get paid to do this, you don't."

He didn't respond and kept looking, never quite catching up with her. She let it go. They both knew four eyes were better than two.

They searched for most of two hours, with nothing to show for it. She informed him they needed to return to the crime scene. When they arrived, a number of uniforms had congregated and were reporting to Esposito and Ryan.

When she and Castle walked up, she looked at her men. "Anything?"

Ryan responded, "Nothing yet, but we've still got three teams out."

"OK, it's 1:45. I'm going to go over to the ME's, she's had a couple of hours, maybe she'll have something off the clothing or a print." She paused, taking a minute to think, "It didn't look like there was any scuffle, but the perp my have touched the vic and left something for us." Ryan tilted his head towards Castle, asking without speaking what they'd do with him. "I'll take Castle with me to the DZ."

"Yeah, you guys have a blast." Esposito laughed.

As they climbed back into the car, Castle yawned. She looked over at him. "You need to head home?"

"Nope, but if you can find coffee, I'll buy...and, the DZ?"

"The morgue! You know, Stephen King, _The Dead Zone_." Without missing a beat, she added, "I know a place for the coffee."

The cruiser stopped in front of an all-night diner. Actually, it was a railroad car converted into a restaurant. As he looked through the dirty glass Castle smiled; he guessed that every big city in the world had one of these. He wondered how it was that the staff always looked the same. Skinny guy with tattoos cooking, wearing one of those military-like paper caps, a female waitress, over 40 but normally looked 60. They climbed out of the car and headed in. When he and Beckett stepped inside, the waitress greeted her, "Well, well, look who just dropped in." Castle wondered who she was talking to since her back was partially to them, "As I live and breathe, Detective Beckett, Queen of the Night."

Beckett smiled at the greeting. "Margie, what are you doing here at this hour?"

"Help is crap! Always falls to me to pick up the slack. Sandy was sick, so here's your one and only." She looked behind Beckett, "Is pretty boy with you?"

Beckett laughed this time, "Castle, this is Margie, and Margie, Rick Castle." He nodded his head at the introduction, "Her little diner helps keep us in coffee on nights like these."

"What can I get you Detective?"

"Two large cups for the road. Black!"

"Coming up. Is everything good in your world?"

"As good as can be expected. They're still killing each other, if that's what you mean."

"And how's your love life, still hanging onto that hunky detective?"

"Of course, Margie, a good man is hard to find."

"So true, so true."

As they made their way across town to the ME's, Castle guessed it was a good time for a couple of questions. "Since this is my first night, is this a typical investigation start?"

"Pretty much. The more information and evidence we can gather, as near as possible to the actual time of the crime, the better our chances are of solving it. Time is a bitch that steals our conviction rates."

"I'm guessing the alley hunting is part and parcel of the job?"

"Actually, that was an easy search. We didn't have to do any dumpster diving tonight, which plays havoc on your nose and whatever your wearing."

The talked casually about the process and what would be next. Hopefully the ME would have something on the vic or his clothing, then it was back to the precinct to start putting it all together.

As they walked in, Lanie Parrish looked up. It was 2:30. "As I live and breathe, if it ain't the pretty people, and twice in less than three hours."

XX

The room was as Castle had guessed. Stainless steel table, with a corpse lying supine, face-up, partially draped in a white sheet. The ME was working on one of his hands. It didn't look like she'd done any cutting.

The ME's eyes were bright, her smile wide, and she didn't miss a beat, "What do we have here? Detective Beckett and writer-boy."

"Writer-boy?" Beckett asked, shaking her head.

Castle started to speak, but Lanie cut him off, " Yeah, I Googled your shadow when I got back. I thought it was you on the street, Mr. Castle. Beckett's always got Super Glue on those beautiful lips." She paused, offering the detective a razor glare, "She never tells anybody anything."

"Lanie!"

Castle piped up for a diversion, "Dr. Parrish, don't you think I'm a little old for 'writer-boy'?"

"Take it as a term of endearment. We never get you celeb-types around here, unless... they're on my table, and that," wagging her finger back and forth, "is no fun at all."

"Ugh, yeah, I get that."

"Lanie, speak to me. What do you have for us?"

"Patience, Detective, patience. This guy's not getting any deader." She turned her focus back to Castle, "Mr. Castle, you get a speeding ticket and have to do some community service, and they stuck you with _her_?"—pointing at her friend. "You must be in deep..."

"Lanie!"

"Sorta." He didn't feel like a confession in the middle of the night.

"Doctor! It's nearly 3 am, and you're doing your interrogation thing?"

"Just wanna make him feel at home with us."

"My guess is he'd like to _go_ home, so cut to the chase." Castle smiled and held up his hands.

"Fine, fine, this is what I got, and it ain't much."

XX

It was nearly 7 am when Castle walked through the front door of his loft. Exhaustion failed to describe how he felt. He'd had two text messages from Melissa wondering where he was, so he called her as he pulled off his shoes and flopped into his office chair.

"Hey, it's me, back from the wars." His voice was flat with the evident weariness.

She responded with concern, "Rick, it's 7 am. You're just getting home?"

"Yeah, what a night."

"Who was shot?"

"Not sure yet. We've been trying to figure out the who, what and why all night."

"It must be pretty tedious work."

"No, it wasn't tedious at all. More like scary. We were searching back streets and alleys looking for suspects or homeless people, maybe a witness of the shooting."

"You were in alleys in the middle of the night? Alone?"

"No, not alone, we did it in teams."

"Were you with Ryan or the other guy?"

"Neither. I was with Detective Beckett."

"You were with her?"

"Yeah!"

Her tone was appreciably cooler. "Do you know anything about Kate Beckett?"

"I know she's the team leader, and there aren't a lot of female detectives around, but nothing else. Am I missing something?"

"Well...I heard her speak at a Women's Lunch last year?"

"What was the occasion?"

"It was on women leaders from around the City." Melissa continued like she was informing a jury, "She rose from a uniformed cop to the detective rank faster than any woman in the history of the NYPD. At the luncheon, she said that much of her motivation came from the loss of her mother."

Castle wanted to sleep, not chat, but he ponied up his best impression and voice of actually being awake. "You mean like cancer?"

"No, not cancer. Her mother was murdered, I don't recall exactly, ten to twelve years ago. The murder was never solved."

"Really? I'd never describe her as a victim."

"Why?"

"I could tell the when we first met that she was one of those 'in control' people, and she was not pleased to have me around. I think told her Captain, she wasn't a 'babysitter,' and she didn't want a 'tag-along.' Ryan and Esposito gave me a little of the back story."

"So how did you end up on her team?"

"Her captain reminded her it wasn't a democracy and she didn't have a choice."

"Interesting. What did she say to that?"

"According to Ryan, nothing. She likely just stood there, he guessed, with veins bulging on her temple, and said yes sir."

"So how was she with you?"

"When I met with her and the team, she was all business. Told me the procedure and that they would contact me, 'when the next body dropped.'"

"So you were with her all night?"

"Yeah, she's the boss and had me follow her."

"Well, you sound exhausted."

"I am so exhausted. I'll fix Alexis breakfast and hit the sack. Call you later."

"Sounds good. Sleep tight."

XX

Castle kissed Alexis on the head and told her he was off to bed. As she drained the last bit of orange juice she gave him a last look, "You look really pooped, Dad."

"So true, Pumpkin, so true."

As he crawled into bed, despite the weariness, he struggled to turn off his brain. He'd made a ton of mental notes as they scurried around the City. It was exciting—the activities of the scene, the alleys, the ME—for him it was like being in a movie. He wanted to scribble things down on paper, but he was just too exhausted. He'd never really thought about writing a story dealing with the cops and maybe the courts. His mind was churning and he wasn't sure where it was going. But he felt that excitement of a story cooking, and he hadn't felt that in months, maybe even a year. He thought he could almost hear the ideas crashing into one another in his head, he loved the growing sense of it, the anticipation of what was to come. Then sleep won, and pulled him under.

XX

Kate stepped out of the shower and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked like death. It was 8:30 am, she'd been going for 28 hours and was in desperate need of a good five hours of sleep. She told the team to be back at the precinct by 3 pm. They'd go over everything again. Castle said he'd join them.

She mumbled to herself, "Castle!" She was surprised by him. He was intelligent and appeared to be a good study. He asked questions that weren't dumb, but instead were well thought out. He didn't have the need to fill silence with chatter. He had the sense to stay out of the way, but remained close enough to observe. Still she felt he treated her differently than most men, who in her experience, tended to stumble over themselves when they met her. But not him, she wasn't even sure he knew she was a woman. There was no staring, no cute comments, no come-ons. Just business, and that was interesting.

She pushed the ride-a-long aside as it dawned on her she hadn't spoken to Tom in two days. The all-nighter had rung her bells, but she needed to touch base. Grabbing her cell she pushed the mic icon and dictated a quick message: _Tom – just got in. Body drop near midnight. I'm dead, hitting the sack. How are you? I'll call when I get up. Have to meet the team back at 12_ _th_ _at 3pm. Dinner later? KB_

Within a minute of her head hitting the pillow, she was out.

XX

Tom Demming sat at the table in the diner. He glanced up as Beckett entered; she looked tired but wore a warm smile. As she neared the table, he stood, extended his arm and pulled her in for a peck on her cheek, "Hey Detective, I thought you'd forgotten me."

She smiled again, "No, it just took a little longer than we planned."

"So did you solve it?"

"We've got some good leads...some good video. I think we'll be closing in soon. It looks like a process of elimination." She reached across and put her hand on his. "And how's things in your end of the pond?"

"All's well. And how's Cheech and Chong?"

"They're not that bad, most days," she chuckled lightly.

"So, what's the crime of the minute? What's stealing your sleep?"

"It looks like a run of the mill pop and drop. The guy may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"What's the evidence say?"

"Not much yet! Espo and Ryan did a number of interviews which yielded some...you know, sorta leads. Castle and I did the surveillance hunt and we found quite a bit of video. Our rush was to save it before the recording loops sent it to video la la land."

"Castle? Who's that?"

"Sorry, I forgot tell you. The Mayor assigned a ride-a-long who started while I was on vacation. He worked a couple of cold ones with the guys. Last night was his first on-the-scene case. We did the hunt and then followed with Lanie." She paused and let out a small laugh, "When he showed up this afternoon for few hours, he looked like he'd been hit by a bus."

"How did he get from the Mayor to you?"

She told him about the interview and the error of Castle's ways. Even though he and the Mayor were buddies, it couldn't keep him out of the dog house. Thus his time at the Twelfth.

"Why would the Mayor care what some guy says on TV, friend or not?"

"He's a public figure, so the Mayor wanted it cleaned up. I suspect there'll be some publicity when it's done."

"I'm confused, I don't know a public official named Castle. Is he a Council Member?"

"No, not that kind of public figure. He's a well-known author. You know, he wrote all those Derrick Storm books."

Demming dropped his menu on the table and smiled at her, "You mean Richard Castle... _your_ Richard Castle?"

Beckett shook her head. "Yes, Richard Castle the author. No, there is no _my_ Richard Castle."

With that he let out a laugh. "What I meant was, the writer who frequents your book shelf."

She shook her head. "Those are my Mom's books. I thought I told you she loved him."

"O-kaaaay!"

She sighed in relief as the waitress walked up. "And what will it be folks?"

"You go first, Tom. I'm starving and need to cut my order down from one of everything on the menu."

XX

For the next four days they worked on the 41st street murder. It ended up being a couple of guys with room temperature IQ's who partied to much and decided they would try their hand at armed robbery. The plan was to scare the victim while brandishing a gun. Then the vic would turn over his watch, wallet and car keys and off they'd be. During the scare phase of the plan the gun accidentally went off. Under the New York's Felony Murder rule, both men were going to serve some hefty sentences.

The remainder of the week was quiet. But then, on the following Wednesday evening, the call came in around 8:30. The team headed for the scene. While on the way, Beckett called Castle.

"Castle, it's Beckett, from the 12th. A body has dropped, you available?"

"I am, where shall I meet you?" She gave him the cross streets.

"We're already here, just tell the uniform at the perimeter to find me, I'll bring you in."

As promised, twenty minutes later Castle walked up to the uniformed policeman watching the perimeter and relayed Beckett's message. He was told to wait. The cop got on his walkie-talkie.

Five minutes later, though Castle did not see her at first, she slipped under the barrier. She watched as he scanned the crowd, looking at the faces. She guessed he was thinking about their earlier conversation, about perps trying to hide in plan sight. She was correct, he was trying to see if someone was out of place. He was startled by her voice, "Castle." He turned and looked into a pair of deep green eyes. She just pointed.

Once through the barrier she finally spoke. "Stay close, watch where you step." She turned and headed off toward the lights. He followed close behind, but not at her side.

They stood around the lighted kill zone. The body of Tom Evans lay crumpled, broken and bereft of life on the filthy sidewalk. Castle remained quiet with his hands tucked into his pockets. The ME was the first to speak, " Well if it isn't Detective Beckett and her sidekick. "

"Good to see you, Lanie."

"I forgot to tell you last week how good you look with a little color. You should tan more often. In fact, girl, you look great!"

Embarrassed by the attention, she shifted gears, "What do we have here, Lanie?"

"Another GSW, but this time the gunman faced our victim. The shot appears to have been shot point blank to the sternum. If I'm right, the guy was dead before he hit the ground."

Beckett looked around at the crowd. Lanie turned to Castle, "Well Mr. Castle, and what brings you out on this lovely evening?"

"The beckoning of Detective Beckett."

"Whoa, I've never heard a phone call described as a beckoning."

Castle laughed, "Sorry, maybe a little literary license there."

"No apology needed, just not our usual street talk."

Beckett returned to the conversation. "Espo, what's your plan?"

"We've got the uniforms doing some canvassing. There are a couple of witnesses over at the cruisers. He pointed to the line of police cars. "Ryan and I thought we'd take one each and see if the stories match."

"OK, I'll take Castle with me. We'll go on a video camera hunt, a little beyond the uniforms' perimeter. See how many we can find and figure out who we need to call."

"Sounds good." The team split up.

She turned to Castle. "We're off to search for video sources, but this time beyond the immediate area. We'll take the cruiser and move a few blocks out, see what we find. Normally we'll make a list and then decide who we need to call to get the tapes or drives."

"Makes sense, which way first?" Again she pointed and he followed several steps behind.

"Castle, you don't have to follow me like a dog." She stopped and waited, "Come up here and walk beside me. I promise not to bite." He laughed.

As they moved towards her car, parked partially in the traffic lane, he offered, "A few years ago there was a study that said, below 14th Street there were over 4,000 cameras, not including those on the subways."

"You actually carry that kinda stuff in your head?"

"I do. But it's not for a trivia games. It stuck with me because it says something about who we are, and how willing we are to trade privacy for safety."

"That's one way of looking at it."

For the next hour they walked and recorded the cameras' locations. They continued in the direction of the crime scene, expecting to run into the uniforms working out from the scene. One thing for sure, there were a ton of cameras. It ought to yield something.

The chatter was limited, but she seemed in a rush. "What I don't want is to lose the video because of short loops. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, you mean if they have an eight hour or shorter record-over program?"

"Exactly. It means we get to wake some people up tonight."

As they made their way down the surrounding streets Beckett laid out potential sources, aside from the obvious ones. "Many landlords put cameras on the corners of the building to monitor activity...sometimes we can find overlapping video." She pointed out several less obvious cameras.

They walked and took notes. They were looking for contact information from either store signs, regular advertising signage, property management notices or simple, 'In Case of Emergency' notices. They kept the search focused on the main streets, sidewalks and adjacent alleyways. At one point, while checking a group of store fronts, Beckett moved into the nearby alley.

Castle jumped at the sound of a crashing metal lid and moved over to where Beckett stood. As he squinted into the dark, he saw light reflect off something, long and shinny. Before it fully registered, he saw the aluminum sheen of a bat, and then, the world shifted to slow motion. His senses began to ping information: sound, voices behind them - he guessed onlookers; motion, a man running towards him; action, as he lunged in front of Beckett just as the bat swung downward.

There was a shower of light, like a sparkler on the Fourth of July, followed by the immediately sense of moisture on his face, his eye. He was acutely aware of his eye, his ear and shoulder. The light turned to stars, and he blinked to clear his focus, but then saw the bat arch up and instinctively threw his left elbow out, slamming it into the man's mid-section.

He could feel Beckett step into him, her leg brushing against his, her upper body starting to roll against but then past him. The rag-tag looking man stopped and made a choking sound, and then vomited down the front of Castle's shirt and pants. He heard Beckett yell, "No Castle, No!" And then the sound of bone crunching as the butt of her gun landed on the bridge of the man's nose. In an instant the man's legs gave way as he dropped to his knees and finally landed face down in the alley. No sigh of life, no movement. Just the stench of vomit.

Castle turned and saw Beckett beside him. Her eyes were wide, she held her gun down at her side, pointed at the ground. There had been no shot, just a dull thud. He could feel her hand tugging at his shirt, her voice was thick and forced. "Castle," she gasped for breath, "what were you thinking?"


	5. Chapter 5

**The Interview**

 **Chapter 5**

Castle staggered back. "You gotta be kidding me!" Staring down at his pants and shoes, he observed, "This guy puked all over me."

Beckett remained silent for a few beats, then catching her breath, she started to laugh. When she tried to stop she just laughed harder.

"Nice, Detective, real nice." He pointed to the homeless guy. "This guy's KO'd...and you're laughing at me."

She looked at the man, and then at Castle. Blood was running down the side of his face, and off his ear. "Castle you're bleeding over your eye and down your ear." She pulled a tissue from her coat pocket and dabbed at the blood. "We need to call this in and get some help."

While they waited, she blotted the cuts, hoping it would stop. After the uniforms arrived and took away the drunk guy, they agreed Castle needed a change of clothes and headed for his loft.

"Nice building, Mr. Castle," she said, sounding a bit sarcastic.

"Please do not call me Mr. Castle...just Castle will be fine." She nodded in agreement.

He had complained about the smell during the brief ride to his place. Once home, he threw open the front door, and pointed, "Kitchen, frig...make your self at home, I'll be back."

Beckett looked over the main room, admiring the décor; she mumbled, _"Certainly above my pay grade."_ She sat at the edge of the sofa cushion, not wanting to get anything dirty.

About ten minutes later he returned, hair wet, and a bag in his hand, "These are going in the trash!"

She smiled at the way he held out the bag. "You can just wash them."

Swinging the bag towards her, he suggested, "How about I donate them to the NYPD?"

She laughed and held up her hands. "Trash it is!" She stepped closer, she asked, "Did you put those band-aids on by yourself? One is loose and the other has blood leaking out."

"Where?"

"Same as before—your eyebrow and the top of your ear."

He touched his finger to the spots and then examined his fingers. "Lets grab the some stuff in the kitchen."

She followed him, and almost ran into his back when he stopped in front of the microwave where he turned and faced the door, using it as a makeshift mirror. For a second time he attempted self-treatment, which did not work.

"Castle, how 'bout you sit and let me do the ointment and bandage thing so we can get back to work?"

"Fine, just go easy."

She shook her head and teased, "Are you a wuss?"

He let out a laugh, "Protect a lady's honor and she calls you a wuss."

"Hey, I'm the cop! And again, you don't protect a cop's honor. What were you thinking?" - using her best glare as a chaser.

"He was about to smack you...and I didn't think that was a good option."

She laughed again, and he groaned as she cleaned the abrasions with more disinfectant, "You really are a wuss, Castle."

"No, Detective, it just burns." He had moved to one of the kitchen stools, she was bent over him.

As she turned her head to work the spots, her hair fell across her eyes. At first she tried to blow it away but failed, "Castle can you push back my hair? It's in the way." He reached up and tucked it behind her ear. At the same moment the door behind them opened and Beckett heard a female voice, "Rick?"

For a second Melissa Marrone wondered if she was in the wrong apartment. Her head told her no, but her heart was sending a different message. Her fiancé sat on a stool with his hand lifted to the face of a tall dark-haired woman who was close enough to kiss him. For a moment she felt she'd invaded something very private, but only for an instant. Then it dawned on her who this woman was leaning over her fiancée.

Kate Beckett.

Castle and Beckett turned to see Melissa walking towards them. Beckett pulled her fingers back away from his forehead, along with the small tube of ointment.

"Melissa, this is..." but before he could speak his fiancée completed the introduction.

"Detective Beckett, what brings you to our home?"

"Counselor! Just doing some first aid on Castle. He had an...an encounter with a bat tonight."

Castle sputtered out, "You two know each other?" - feeling like a third wheel.

"Yes," Melissa offered in a flat and unenthusiastic tone. She turned her attention to Castle, "I thought you were following the police!" It was not offered as a question.

"I was _following_ until this guy tried to smack Detective Beckett and then hurled all over my clothes."

Melissa frowned, "Detective, I thought the police were supposed to protect. What happened to Rick?"

"Well—" pausing and considering the accusation, "as I said, he ended up between me and a homeless guy, and took the worst of it."

"I'd like to say I'm surprised." Her tone was cool and dismissive. She immediately switched gears and moved her focus to him. "Do we need to take you to ER and have it checked, Rick?"

"No. We're just about done. It's not that bad...plus we need to get back. We've got more cameras to find, and I left my car downtown."

Her voice changed again, this time to agitation. "You're going back out? Your eye has blood over it!"

Nodding, he explained, "I just came home to wash off the...well...and change."

Her impatience was obvious. "You haven't had enough for one evening?"

"No, I'm serious, we're not done." He turned to Beckett, "Detective, can you finish this so we can get back?"

Beckett decided against the band-aid for the eye. She carefully placed a small piece of tape over gauze material and cautiously pressed the tape against his skin, holding it briefly to make sure it stuck.

Melissa watched the Florence Nightingale drama unfold between the cop and her fiancée. It made her blood curdle. She immediately recognized the cold as fear. She had seen Kate Beckett in court. She recalled the times they had come up against each other and why she had purposefully not told Castle. She was formidable and Melissa knew about her life. While her mom's death was tragic, what made Beckett such a fierce opponent was that she was a true believer. She was steeled in her determination. For her, every murder was her mother's all over again. It was not a 'calling to a just a cause' or a 'call for justice,' it was her life. The rule for every lawyer is to research their opposition. She had learned Beckett was a victim turned detective. Some of the stories told about her painted her as a bloodhound-like character. She didn't investigate, she hunted murderers like prey. And here she was, in their house, her hands all over him. She had a terrible feeling, a sickening premonition. Then she heard the detective speak.

"Done, I'll wait out in the hall way."

After she left, Melissa frowned again and hugged him. "Why do you have to go back out?" But before he could answer, she asked the real question, "And why are you always with _her_?"

He didn't feel like explaining at the moment. "Mel, I need to finish what we're working on. This is the second active case we've had since I've been following them. Like before, the guys are following some leads, she and I need to finish the search for video footage." He studied the continuing frown and decided it was time for his question. "So how do you two know each other?"

"I'll tell you later. The sooner you go, the sooner you'll get back." She pecked the side of his face.

XX

They completed their search around 11:45. Beckett suggested Castle go home, she and the guys would carry on. He refused. "If you'll drop me at my car I'll follow you back; I'd like to see this through."

When she stopped at his car, Beckett delayed for beat. "Let me look at your cuts." She could see the small bandage over his eye was again soaked through and was slightly leaking. They exited the car and he leaned back against the fender. She gently examined the two cuts. "Castle we need to change these. They're soaked, and this one over your eye is really starting to leak." Her fingers skimmed across his forehead, then along the side of his face and ear.

He grumped, "It'll be OK."

"Yeah, you will. Once we get back we'll fix these, it's first on the list."

He made his way to his car. She waited a few beats, so he could start his car, then she pulled away, with him following.

Beckett rode in silence, her hands slightly trembling and her mind racing. She spoke to the windshield, "What are you doing?" She shook her head, "Check your cuts! _Really_?"

She knew it was not just the cuts she was checking. She was also checking on herself. She had known of this man for years and met him little over a month ago, and already her heart was doing strange things. She found the first encounter in his loft distracting but strangely intimate. She scoffed at how she could use the word _intimate_ to describe the application of a bandage. But it was. She recalled a saying her grandma used: "Don't kick tires on things you don't need." She wondered if that was what she was doing, setting up a need, or maybe a way out. With that thought, she mentally skidded to a halt, interrogating herself again, " _Out of what?"_

That second check of his bandages had confirmed what she had expected—blood above his eye and simmering in her veins. She was testing her response to contact with him, to see if it would have the same effect on her as before. It did. With Melissa watching, it felt strange, but this time, there had been only the two of them. In the private moment at the car, she again felt the internal shuddering, and it scared her.

XX

"Yo Castle, King of Puke!" Esposito offered a high five.

Castle laughed and shook his head.

"So Beckett, how's your Knight in Shining...well—"

"Shut up, Espo! Don't see you jumping in front of a bat for me."

"Your right, I'd just shoot the SOB." - followed by a bark like laugh.

She glared at him, "Like that would help!"

Ryan jumped into the fray,"Castle, you're officially one of us. You get puked on by perp...man, you are in."

Beckett interrupted the banter. "Castle, we'll leave these two clowns to themselves. I'll get the kit for your eye and meet you in the conference room... see what we've got for cameras and phone numbers." She pointed in the direction.

XX

It was 1:45 am when Castle returned to the loft. He was way beyond weary, but he was also exhilarated by the night's work. They were able to contact a number of shops and building security companies . All assured them that they would safeguard the video. With almost every camera focused on sidewalks and street areas, there were no privacy issues. After Beckett explained what they were looking for and that it was a murder investigation, several companies agreed to email the video directly to the Twelfth.

Early the team agreed they'd do better with some rest. Fresh eyes could only help the slow process of reviewing film. As they rode the elevator down, the guys sniffed the air, suggesting Castle still reeked, until Beckett whacked Ryan in the arm and he laughed. Castle just smiled over the ribbing.

Beckett and Castle were parked in the same direction and walked to their cars together. They came to hers first and he said goodnight, but before he got away, she put her hand out and pulled at his sleeve. He stopped and faced her. "Castle...thank you."

"For what?" He seemed confused.

"For getting between me and the homeless guy. It wasn't your job to take a hit for me."

He just laughed, "Like I said Detective, I wasn't going to let that happen."

She smiled broadly, "Good night, see you tomorrow."

As he walked away she called to him, "Change that bandage, you're still leaking." He waved back over his shoulder at her.

XX

As he stood at the loft's door, his mind wandered back to the exchange between Melissa and Beckett. He paused before opening the door, knowing what was on the other side. He didn't feel up to a discussion, but knew Mel would waiting and would have more to say over the earlier encounter.

He opened the door and found her sitting on the sofa reading. Her head jerked up and he walked in. "I was beginning to worry about you, you left hours ago."

"Yeah, it took longer than I thought, but we made some progress."

Without missing a beat, she continued, "This is why I didn't want you involved with them. They live by the sword, they'll die by it too. But look what happened—it was you who ended up hurt. You should've never been out there."

"Melissa..."

"She was the one who should've been taking the risks, not you."

He had no inclination for this discussion, plus his head hurt. "I needed to change this bandage, the cuts are not that bad, and..."

She cut him off, "Why would you bring _her_ here?"

He had started towards the bedroom and turned to face her, "What do you mean? We were working together, the guy threw up on me, and I needed to change. Why else would I bring her here?"

She started to whine, "Rick you need to get out of this."

"Melissa, I'm tired. My head hurts, and I don't want to do this tonight."

"You spend the night gallivanting around with the police, but you're too tired to discuss this with me?"

"It's nearly 2 am, I'm just exhausted. This can wait, I'm not sure I can even stand much longer."

"I asked you earlier...and you didn't answer me. How did you land on a team with Detective Beckett?"

"It just worked out." Now he felt his own anger ramping up. "Why didn't you tell me you knew each other?"

"I didn't think it was that big of a deal."

"Then why are we talking about it?"

Seeming not to hear his response, she asked him, "Are you going to work with just her team?"

"You mean at the Twelfth?"

"Yes."

"It looks that way." But this time he was done. "Mel I need to shower and get in bed, now. "

She just shook her head as he walked away.

XX

The first blip on the web was small, showing up around 6:30 am. The uploaded cell footage showed the back of a woman reaching around a man with a gun in her hand. The uploaded cell footage showed a woman's back. She was reaching around a man with a gun in her hand." It was just above shoulder level and then it flew down and struck a second man in the face. At the time of the recording no bat was visible.

Within a few hours, and in time for the 6 pm evening news, two of the three people had been identified. The woman was Detective Kate Beckett. The man she was leaning on and over was none other than Richard Castle, a well known New York author. The third person was an unidentified street person, who appeared to be getting the worst of it.

While this New York City police video grabbed the headlines, there was another story, much more obscure, and missed by most readers. Buried in the Real Estate section was the news of MCC Development Company's purchase of an older piece of property in Manhattan. The article said the property was to be developed. Actually, the property had been placed in escrow, with a number of contingencies that needed to be met before the purchase was final. The writer of the story got most of the information correct.

All in all, it was a busy press day for Richard Castle. The last 'C" of MCC Development was in fact him. The name of the property in the story was identified as _The Beckett Building_.

This information was read by one of the people in New York who made a habit of reading the paper, front to back, every day. She often bragged that the best stories came the hard way, by just digging, and she had a suspicion she was on to something. She was missing a couple of the pieces, but believed she was on the right path. She'd just have to put it all together.

XX

Shahnaz Smith had worked with Melissa Marrone for almost five years. They had developed both a good working relationship as well as a close friendship. The two women understood one another and after their first year together they were pretty much open books to one another.

What Shahnaz saw this particular morning was that Melissa dumped a number of books on the table, just a little too heavily . She pushed things aside with too much force. The landing of her empty coffee cup nearly left a dent in the conference table they were working on.

Shahnaz was Marrone's paralegal. She had an impeccable memory. She knew clients two ways, by name and social security number. She didn't need a list, it was all in her head. She could recall ten or more cases after a quick peek at a Shepardizing printout. Melissa had come to rely on her quick mind, in the office and more so in court.

Shahnaz knew the calendar for the next six months, and their next trial was weeks away. Trial exhibits were complete along with the pre-trial briefs. The DA had not filed any pre-trial motions, yet here was Melissa freaking out. "Mel!" No response. "Mel!" Again nothing. Finally, she raised her voice, "Melissa!"

From somewhere Melissa heard a voice, her name. She startled and looked up at Shahnaz. "Did you say something?"

"Mel, what is going on?"

"Nothing, I'm just tired, a little distracted."

"Is it the Boettcher case?"

"No, the case is what it is, and we're ready."

"OK, so...what's wrong?"

"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong."

"Well, you're somewhere else to day, and its a very angry place, and you...you look exhausted. Is everything OK at home?"

With the question, Melissa's shoulders slumped and then her head dropped. "I don't know. I thought so but now...now I'm not sure."

Shahnaz sat for a few seconds, waiting for her friend to explain, but nothing was forthcoming. "Mel, what's wrong at home? Is there anything I can do?"

Melissa let out a heavy sigh, followed by, "Men!"

"Mel, is there another woman? Is Rick cheating on you?"

"No!" She then dropped her head, studying her hands.

"Then I'm confused."

"I don't think Rick is cheating, but there is another woman."

"Who?"

She straightened as if she'd found her own internal balance. "Do you remember when Rick was on TV and the Mayor was upset with him?"

"Sure, I remember."

"Then he was asked to follow a homicide team, to which he agreed. He's been at the Twelfth Precinct."

"OK, has something happened there? What's the Twelfth Precinct got to do with a woman?"

"It appears he was assigned to...I don't know. But his partner, ended up being a woman."

"I'm still not following."

"A couple of nights ago he was injured...got hit with a bat. Then some homeless guy threw up on him. Anyway, he came home to change and I found him..."

"I heard about something on the news, but I was too busy to listen, but you said you...found him doing what?"

"His partner, the detective, was hovering over him like an ER nurse, and he was looking up at her, holding back her hair so she could work on his cuts...it looked like they were about to kiss."

"Who is this detective?" Her voice had taken on an angry tone.

"Kate Beckett."

"You've gotta be kidding me! You're talking about the Beckett you've had the run-ins with?"

"Yeah, that Beckett."

"But they weren't kissing?"

"No, she was fixing the cut over his eye."

"So...why are worried?"

"It was the look in her eyes—it scared me, actually made me shiver."

Shahnaz turned her head sideways, like she was trying to get something in focus. "O...K, what was the look?"

"It hard to explain...you'll think I'm crazy...even paranoid..." Her voice trailed away, like she was afraid to say it.

"I know you're neither crazy or paranoid. What did you see?"

"It seemed predatory...or maybe the word is 'territorial.' Almost like she was warning me with her eyes...you know... that I should stay back. But most of all, it was a fierce look of need, like she wanted him, and was trying to hold back...but failing."

"Oh, crap. Does he know?"

"I don't think so...I would say no."

"Mel, you need to figure something out on this, and fast."

XX

She had been waiting for the call from Montgomery. The phones had been ringing off the hook over the homeless guy video. There was no doubt in her mind that she'd never get out of the building without a summons to discuss the matter.

She had been surprised when she heard Castle's voice so early in the day, but was stunned by the news of the video, especially since they were the stars. Such videos could be the kiss of death for a police career. She knew he was an internet addict, which explained the early detection on his part. He quickly gave his version of the video, then sent a copy to her phone. He reminded her that it was going viral and to be ready. She wanted to gag. She promised to call him once Montgomery got wind of it.

The call came at 4:00 PM. He stood at his office door and barked, "Beckett, a minute please."

She took a deep breath and headed to the office. As she stepped inside he pointed to a chair. She sat.

"So tell me, Beckett, how are things going with Mr. Castle?"

"You mean how am I doing as a the Mayor's babysitter?"

"Careful! He doesn't appear to be a child." He crossed his fingers like he was praying, but stared at her without expression. "In fact, he appears to have a calming effect on one of my rather... high-strung people," he added, with a smile and slightly raised eyebrows. "Do you follow me Detective?"

She decide to not bite. "I do think Ryan likes him, sir."

"This is not about Ryan, or Esposito." He stood and started to pace. "Let me be clear, the calming effect is on you, and he _appears_ ….to be very protective of you."

"Sir, I did not ask him to get between me and that homeless guy. I..."

Montgomery stopped her with a raised hand. "That's a good segue, to the main issue. The homeless guy….and the video which you no doubt know about."

Studying the ground, she admitted, "I've have had a couple of calls about it, sir."

"Well, for every one of yours, I've probably received 50."

She decided listening would be best. This was probably going to spin out of control.

He continued, " I've had three calls from the major networks, who, by the way, plan to air the video on the evening news. They were looking for a comment, but...I referred them to the press people at 1PP."

"Sir, I honestly believe neither Castle nor I did anything wrong, besides being hit by the guy's bat."

"I know you did nothing wrong. It's the risk we run every time we go out there." He paused again and then spoke softly, "We'll have to weather this. Unfortunately our best defense is Castle's face. Just be prepared for some grief."

"I understand, sir." She waited to see if he had anything else to add. When he remained silent she stood, but as she neared the door he spoke again.

"Beckett, I was serious. You two work well together. Enjoy his brief stay."

She returned to her desk and stared at the papers on it. The one word that stuck with her from their conversation, and stung, was 'brief.' She hoped the Captain was wrong on that count.

XX

The Mayor, Deputy Commissioner, Captain Montgomery and Castle were together for another round of poker. There had been some long faces and serious looks over the video, but the Mayor declared a truce on the issue. They were here to play cards and have some fun. Let the trash talk begin.

It had been month since the last game, and Castle braced himself for the night's events and what might happen. The team at the Twelfth had settled a couple of cases and then there was the run-in with Batman, as Ryan and Esposito had nicknamed the guy. And then there was the the video, which had been a setback.

They had agreed to meet at a downtown club. It was neutral and kept the wives happy – none were interested in cigar smoke and male bantering.

When Castle had come in, he saw the Mayor make a beeline for him. He knew what was going to happen and braced for the impact. In final prep he scrunched up his face. The arms engulfed him and squeezed, the Mayor starting to laugh, "Ricky, I am so proud of you. Taking a hit for the team! Throwing your coat in the mud puddle...and getting puked on." He pushed him back at arm's length and held on, " And your face, it looks like hell."

The other the two men immediately began laughing, at his 'greet and spin.' The Mayor was a bigger-than-life guy who always took liberties in story telling. Castle was laughing along with the card gang, "What team? What coat?"

"Hey, I'm telling this story." The Mayor was almost laughing too hard to talk. "But

you're killing me! Last time you were trash talking our PD and now you're the star of a police video. Who would have thought?"

The discussion veered to the video, but all agreed being attacked with a bat took the sting out of any suggestion of police misconduct. The press would get its nickel's worth from it, and the video would soon be forgotten.

After everyone calmed down, Captain Montgomery asked, "So Castle, what do think of police work?"

He smiled, "It's very interesting, Captain, especially the process and methods your team uses to solve a crime." He paused, "I thought I already understood it, but obviously I didn't."

The Commissioner was next, "And how's the team?"

"Well, I worked the first week or so with Detectives Ryan and Esposito. We got along very well. I've been working with Detective Beckett, and I understand why she's the team leader and just how good she is at her job."

The group quieted for a minute and then the Mayor added, "What bothers me is the fact that a woman had to save your butt." And it all started over again.

XX

It had been over a week since the now infamous bat incident and video. The team continued to work the case. They were following a number of leads that had come from witnesses and then cross-referencing the information with footage from the various cameras. Castle was sitting in a chair, next to Beckett's desk. They were discussing a phone call that had just come in. He offered up a crazy idea which caused her to laugh, but suddenly her face dropped and turned grim. He noticed her shoulders slumping. Her eyes immediately flickered down to the desk. He was certain something had just happened behind him, but didn't move. He spoke quietly, "What is it?"

Speaking to the desk, she spoke in an undertone, "Stay still, head down, Castle."

To his right, he saw the forms of two people who entered the Captains office. The angle was not the best, but based on her concerned tone he knew better than to turn his head.

"Who are they?" he asked, his eyes flicking to his right.

"Internal Affairs...IA! Never want to see them...ever."

After a few minutes, he went to the break room. Twenty minutes later when Castle returned, the two IA guys were gone.

He sat down quietly. "Beckett, do you know what that was about?" She was working at something on her monitor. But before she could respond, Montgomery walked up to her desk. They both looked up at him.

"I need you two in my office."

* * *

A/N - As always, thanks for taking the time to read, review, favorite and follow my story. Your responses as readers are always a great boost on the writing end of things.

A special thanks to my Betas ; SJ and ebFiddler. Their willingness to read, comment and edit is a great help in producing a smooth and readable story. A big thanks to them.

Eb has a number stories, take a look in fan fiction under writers and ebfiddler.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N - November was extremely busy - hope to update more frequently. Thanks for your favourites, followings and reviews.**

 **And most importantly - a thanks to my beta's - SJ and EB Fiddler**

* * *

 **The Interview**

 **Chapter 6**

It had been only minutes after the departure of the two IA cops that Captain Montgomery called them to his office. They found him swivelling in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin. It took a moment but then he pointed for them to sit and for Beckett to close the door.

"How's your eye, Castle?"

"It's fine sir! Just taking some time for the bruising to go away."

"I'm glad to hear that." He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, " I know I've said this before, but I'm sorry you took the hit, but I'm thankful for your gut instinct to protect. You can teach _safety_ but you can't teach gut instincts...yours have been shown to be good."

Beckett was instantly embarrassed. They were talking about her like she wasn't here. His gut instinct was to protect and she, in this conversation, was the focus of his protective act. Combining this with her other conflicted emotions over Castle, this was, well - uncomfortable.

There was another long pause by Montgomery. He turned his focus to Beckett, "As you saw, Detective, we've had a visit from Internal Affairs. With the video and the group of criers, IA has decided your conduct might have been...over zealous, in response to the man with the bat."

She sprung to the edge of her chair. "They what?" But he cut her off.

"There's a group that champions the rights of the 'street people'," he said, using air quotes. "They're threatening a lawsuit against the City. Before that happens...the powers have suggested IA take a look at you and the entire incident." It was clear he was attempting to suppress his anger.

Beckett took the pause and spoke softly, "Captain, there were other possible outcomes. Either Castle or I could have been seriously hurt, or killed...a drunk wielding an aluminium bat like it's Armageddon...I would have been justified in shooting him. So how is hitting him with the butt of my weapon, not a gift? How could those idiots from IA even sit there with a straight face?"

Montgomery held up his hand again, "I'm with you. I get it. But this has some political push to it. They appear to want someone on the whipping post."

"And 1PP is going to let them do that?"

"I don't think so. But, it will have to work its way out."

"So what does that mean for me, am I going to be suspended?"

"Absolutely not! Let them investigate, you just do your job and...watch your back."

Castle had been squirming. "Captain, we didn't do anything wrong. How is getting hit with a bat the basis for a cause against the police?"

Montgomery let out a cynical laugh. "Welcome to our world, Mr. Castle."

They talked for a few more minutes, Beckett's cool dissipating further, and finally the Captain dispatched them back to work.

After sitting for a minute in silence, Castle leaned forward and in low voice said, "I'm not taking this lying down. They're not going to pin this on you, Beckett."

She met his angry glare with a warm smile, "You're not?"

"Why are you smiling at me?"

She was struck again by his sense of justice, his anger, but what warmed her most was the reoccurring instinct to protect her. Why was this guy constantly running interference for her? She also smiled at the lack of things he could actually do, and felt bad that he was being given a baptism of fire into the politics of police work. "I was just admiring your angst and instinct to protect my people...thank you, Castle."

"It's crap and you know it. This is pure political BS."

"Yes, it is. But I live with it everyday." Now she was the serious one. "I have to decide the threat level in every incident and in seconds decide how it ends."

He plopped back against the chair.

XX

It was turning into another sleepless night. He made his way to the roof of the building. As he pushed open the access door, he was hit with a familiar smell, _Wolf Bros Rum Crooks_ cigars. His neighbor Gene, who was probably 80 years old, smoked the cigars because his wife liked the aroma. Gene had told Castle they were 'OK' and, cheap to boot.

As he got near the older man, Castle called out so he'd know he was no longer alone, "Gene, it's late, what are you doing out here?"

"I could ask the same question, Batman."

Castle groaned, "No...not you too!"

"Just teasing. I've seen the video! I'd jump in front of a bat for that beautiful detective, any day. You make me proud "

"I think Mel wants to take a bat to me."

"Women, can't live with them, and can't live without them." The old man emitted a smoke laced cough.

"I don't want to live without her. It's just ever since I started following the detectives at the Twelfth things have...I don't know," he paused and settled on, "gotten complicated."

Gene laughed again, "I don't think your problems are from the _detectives,_ " stretching the 's-s-s-,' "at the Twelfth."

"Why would say that?"

"I think the problem is _one,_ and only _one_ detective. I may be old, Castle, but I'm not dead. Have you really looked at the detective you're following? If not, I'm sure your fiancée has."

All Castle could do was to shake his head.

XX

The next day he left the precinct early. He was glad he'd followed his own rule and kept his mouth shut-up about the IA thing. But now he was out of the building and immediately used his speed dial, "Hey Emily, is he in?"

"Rick, I hear you're slumming it and taking a beating to boot. You're my hero."

"No hero, but I am having a great time. And since he put me here...I have to complain a little, but I need to ask him something."

"He's in a meeting but I'll ask him to call you within the hour."

"Thanks Emily, I appreciate it."

"Keep your head down!" He couldn't help but laugh.

As he made his way home, he thought about how he should approach the Mayor. He had figured out enough to know that his request would be touchy and, maybe there was nothing even the Mayor could do. But he refused to stand by and let the chips fall, even if Beckett told him he was powerless.

By the time he arrived at his building and exited the elevator, his phone began to ring. As he put his key in the door he answered. "Bob, thanks for the call."

When he stepped into the loft he saw Melissa working at the dining room table. He mouthed the words, ' _the Mayor_ ,' pointing at the phone, and then walked towards his office. She nodded that she understood.

He swung the door partially closed and listened for a few moments; when the Mayor asked what was up he jumped in, "I have a problem at the Twelfth and...I'm wondering if you could help. It's not really my problem, it's...Detective Beckett's." Over the next two minutes he filled the Mayor on the days events with IA. He ended with, "I don't want Montgomery or Beckett in trouble because of this call, but they really don't deserve this crap for just doing their jobs."

"I understand, I'll do some looking around, quietly." After that the Mayor didn't hang up but remained silent, so Castle waited. "Rick, you do understand that Beckett has a number of… shall I say, enemies?"

The statement caught him off guard, "No, I didn't, and...why is that?"

"The fact she was the youngest uniform ever promoted to detective, and that she's a woman...well it leaves the door open for...let's just say a large club of officers who do not wish her well. A lot of people were passed over for her promotion." After another pause, his voice brightened, "Rick, gotta go but, heard you have another Channel 7 interview, good luck."

XX

In the other room Melissa knew the call was over by Castle's "Thank you. Have a good evening."

She could tell he was agitated and cautiously waded in, "So what was the call from the Mayor about?"

He groaned, "Internal Affairs came to the Twelfth today. They're going to investigate the bat incident, no doubt fueled in part by the video."

"What's that got to do with the Mayor?"

"Actually, nothing. I called him and asked if he could add some quiet heat to end it before it goes any further."

"Why do you want it stopped?" She sounded honestly surprised.

He said nothing for second, trying to understand her question, "I'm not sure I understand? _Why_ would I want it to go forward?"

"Rick, the cops overstep everyday. Any investigation helps rein them in."

"Melissa, you saw my face. You know what a bat does to someone? And what's that got to do with the cops?"

She blanched at the comment, "Of course I saw your face, but that's not the issue, is it?"

"I'm not sure what the _issue_ is here." His tone was defensive and cool.

"Are they investigating you?" Her tone was more of an accusation than a question, all the while knowing the answer, but pressing her point.

"No! It's Beckett that IA's after."

"So you're trying to protect the police, in the beating of a homeless person after you invaded his living space?"

Castle spun on the comment, his face a mask of anger. Again he was trying to formulate what to say, and how, not to get in a shouting match. But before he could say a word, she jumped back in.

"You did invade his space!" Again, it was not a question.

He faced her, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Are you listening to yourself Mel? We were looking for clues in a murder. You know the dead guy, five blocks away? We're walking down a public street, turn and look into an alley and a guy tries to beat us to death with an aluminum bat...and that's _our_ fault?"

Now Melissa stood, "You asked me if I heard what I was saying. Well, do you _hear_ yourself? You're defending the people I have to fight every day. It never hurts to have the cops' feet held to the fire, even if they didn't do anything wrong, _this time_!"

Both remained silent after the outbursts, then with gritted teeth she added, "And there is no _our_ fault, it was _her_ fault, she's the cop! Not you!"

"So the solution is to not hunt for murderers so your fiancé doesn't get his head busted open?'

"That's not what I'm saying and you know it."

"What's left? Just hunt for murderers and take the beating like a man?"

"You should've never been there!"

"What, so a cop can get her head busted open?"

"She's trained, and you're not. It's her job, Rick!"

"Then why are they investigating her? She was _doing_ her job investigating a murder. She didn't sign up to take a beating so no one sues the city for police abuse. Where's the justice in that?"

When she didn't respond, he spoke quietly. "Why are you so upset about this? I would've thought you'd be thanking her for protecting me. Not cheering on the lynch mob."

Her tone was even. "I don't like you working with the police, you know that. But besides that, I don't like your fascination with what they do, or how they do it. To me these are bad people, and it bothers me that you can't see that."

He let out a sigh, "Melissa, you know you can't categorize a group of people as _all_ bad, it's just never true. You'll end up sounding like someone who listens to too much talk radio." He paused. "I've yet to meet anyone at the precinct who is not as dedicated as you...who isn't just trying to do their job. If someone came after you, for doing what you do, I'd be just as angry."

Both instinctively knew it was time to let this go. They let silence fill the room.

XX

It felt like deja vu. It had been nearly two months since he had sat in the same seat with Marty Rogers on Channel 7's entertainment segment. They had run the video of him and Beckett as part of their 6PM news a few days early. Shortly thereafter Marty called Castle and asked him back.

Castle was again in Donna Babe's make-up chair. She seemed very excited to see him, "Well well, you've certainly made a big splash since the last time we were together."

He could only offer a small huff, "If you would have told me what was going to happen at the end of my last visit, I would have never believed it."

She laughed, "Ain't life great? It sounds like it's been a real roller coaster for you." - still dabbing at his face.

"That would be putting it mildly."

She laughed at his candor, "Well Marty's hyped tonight...and very happy to have you on her segment."

Ten minutes later they were being miked as the segment was about to go live.

"Okay Rick, you know the drill. We're going go from the last telecast through work with the Twelfth and finally the alley story. You ready?"

"You bet, Marty." He flashed her a big smile.

XX

Before going on the show, he had four conversations, with four different women.

Alexis Castle, as always, was just excited at having her dad on TV. She was a proud daughter, assuring him he'd do a great job.

Martha Rogers could only be called motherly. "Richard, now look at me; you need to _think_ about what you say. Remember the last time you were on the little screen, you ended up in the Mayor's hoosegow."

He scrunched his face, "Little screen? Hoose what?"

"Don't even pretend with me, Richard! You know what both of those mean...just listen to your mother! Watch what you say!"

Melissa Marrone was against the interview. It wasn't about his books, so there was nothing for him to gain as an author. Instead it would be about the buzz over the bat incident, cell phone video and _her_. She preferred not to even say the name. She was his partner, the other was a blip on the screen, and her 15 minutes of fame was already over. The nightmare for Melissa was the accusation that he had been involved in police brutality, even if it wasn't true. She wondered what her contacts in the legal community were thinking about her work and her relationship with Rick. But she was still conflicted about the event. Why did that man have to be pistol whipped? Why was he provoked in the first place? Wasn't that how the police did things? They'd set up situations where they could exert power, and her fiancé was in the middle of it all. But these things could not be spoken and in the end she simply pecked his cheek and wished him well. In all honesty, nothing could calm her sense of foreboding .

The fourth woman was new to his list. It was of course Detective Beckett. It struck him as odd that in just a short period of time, what she thought was important to him.

"So!" She paused to make sure she had his attention, "Big night? Back on the tube?"

He gave a small smile, "Yep!"

"Castle I know you're upset about IA." When he didn't make eye contact, she pulled at his coat sleeve making him face her. "Don't worry about it, and for heaven sakes don't defend me on TV. It will all work out. Just tell them it's an ongoing investigation and leave it at that."

"Doesn't mean I can't be fried." He gave her a second weak smile, "Let me seethe for a bit."

She laughed, "Man, do you ever hold a grudge. Remind me never to cross you." Then punching him in the arm, "Lighten up. Enjoy the free publicity."

XX

"Richard Castle, it's good to have you back," she led, smiling and all teeth - he thought momentarily of her as a shark circling its prey.

"Thank you, Marty."

"Tonight we're talking about your recent escapades with the NYPD." She paused, "What's it been? Seven weeks?"

"I think that's close."

"Shortly after your last interview, you began following a team of detectives, is that correct?"

"It is; I've been working the Twelfth Precinct under the supervision of Captain Montgomery."

Her voice crescendoed with excitement, "But you're not in the office" —sounding almost scandalized—"You're actually out on the streets?"

"I've been assigned to a team of three detectives, who've taken me along and answered a lot of questions for me."

"What can you tell me about the team?"

"Pretty simple, of the three detectives one has the role as the leader in the investigations. The leader then assigns tasks and the team dives in. "

"Who's the lead on your team?"

"It's Detective Beckett."

"Let me see if I have this right, you're referring to...Detective Kate Beckett?" Pausing for effect, as though she were scouring her memory instead of looking at the note tablet on her knee, "She has quite a reputation at the NYPD?"

"Detective Beckett has been with the Twelfth the last three years after she was promoted to detective. Before that she served in other departments."

"Isn't true she's the youngest officer to ever be promoted to detective?"

"Yes, I think so." It was his turn to play dumb.

"Wait, wait! I misspoke! She was the youngest _female officer_ to be promoted to detective?" She held out her hand to Castle like an invitation.

"Actually she was both. The youngest uniformed officer to be promoted to detective as well as the youngest woman to ever be promoted to detective."

"And have you enjoyed working with Detective Beckett?"

"Yes, she's a very intelligent detective! She's highly skilled in solving homicides and leads an excellent team."

"Sounds like you think the promotion process for young female officers is a good thing."

He laughed, deflecting the question, "Oh no, Marty, I'm not touching that!" Wagging a finger at her, he elaborated, "I have no idea how promotions work in the NYPD. What I'm saying is, Detective Beckett is a excellent detective."

"From the news it sounds like you and Detective Beckett are partners, is that true?"

"Actually, Detectives Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan are her partners. I'm simply an observer."

"Wait, Rick,"—holding up her hand like a traffic cop—"Weren't you and Detective Beckett partners the night of the now famous bat incident?"

"Marty, I think famous is a bit over the top. We were searching for video sources following a murder...a homeless person came at us with a bat."

She beamed and swatted her hand in his direction, "Richard Castle, for a writer of stories, don't you think you missed the most important part of _this_ story?" But without giving him time to respond, she continued, "You know! Where you get between the bat and your partner?"

At that moment, across town, in two separate locations, Melissa Marrone and Kate Beckett each reacted to the question. Melissa groaned, thinking this was going to be horrible. Detective Beckett on the other hand, felt her eyes sting in an emotional response. She'd asked him to leave her out of this interview, but now she was certain he would jump in with both feet, and would certainly have more to say. She moved to the edge of her sofa.

The interview continued as he laid out the events of the night following the murder. He explained that when the man emerged from the dark alley with the bat, he didn't think Detective Beckett was at the right angle to see the bat coming. He had a split second to intervene and got between the man and Beckett.

"But that wasn't the end?"

"No, the man staggered, vomited on me, came at us a second time. I threw an elbow, then Detective Beckett struck with a defense blow," he reported, quickly adding, " And then it was over."

"Well, chivalry is certainly not dead!" Delighted with herself, she half-turned and faced the camera, "Well, the lesson seems to be for the rest of us New Yorkers...we should be safe, just as long as we don't get between Richard Castle and his Detective. We'll be back after these announcements." They went to a break.

During the break she reminded him they had only 30 second for the wrap up. He smiled, but cringed inwardly, trying to get ready for whatever trap she had up her sleeve for him on this night.

"We're back with Richard Castle. Best selling novelist and recent observer with an NYPD Detective unit." She swung from the audience and addressed her guest, "In these last few seconds, I understand Internal Affairs is investigating Detective Beckett over the bat incident, what are your thoughts?" She smiled like she'd just knocked her opponent's sword from his hand.

He paused for maybe two, maybe three seconds, "Detective Beckett protected me from a second swing of the guy's bat. It was my head about to get hammered and had he succeeded, it's possible I wouldn't be here tonight as a guest on your show." Again he paused as Marty's eyes widened, and then added, "Let's just say I greatly appreciate Detective Beckett's quick action and consider myself in her debt."

"Thanks for being here tonight!" She waved her arm like she was presenting him to the TV audience, "Richard Castle."

When the lights dimmed, she turned to him. "You gave me a scare for a moment there, thought a cat got your tongue."

He smiled back, "Just wanted to make sure I said it right... and gave credit where credit was due."

XX

There were no lights on at the loft when he arrived home, except a small range light in the kitchen. He had expected Mel to be up waiting for him, but obviously she had gone to bed. He got out a glass of water and snacked on some fruit, then made his way to the bedroom. The room was pitch black. He could hear her breathing, so he made his way to the en suite bathroom, showered, then brushed his teeth and slipped into bed.

He was tired and as he closed his eyes was certain sleep was near.

"How could you?" The voice startled him and he jumped.

"Mel, I thought you were asleep." Then sounding puzzled, he repeated, "How could I what?"

He felt the bed move and then rolled over and saw her sitting upright. He could hear her breathing had changed; she was angry. When she spoke it sounded like she was gritting her teeth.

"I don't think you spoke a single sentence tonight without the word Beckett in it! I thought if I heard one more reference to _Saint Kate_ I'd puke on you, just like that homeless guy."

"Mel, the interview was about following her team, the bat incident and then the video. She was part of each those things. How could I not talk about her?" His voice was now laced with exasperation.

"It was the _way_ you talked about her."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"And that's what scares me, and makes me...so angry."

"What did I say?"

"How about… very intelligent...highly skilled...in her debt. I was waiting for you to build a shrine to her right there on the show."

"Mel, if that's all you heard, I'm sorry. I was trying to simply give the facts and not end up ambushed by Marty again. I wasn't thinking about Beckett any more than Ryan or Esposito."

"Maybe you should watch the interview again. It seems to me that all of New York thinks no one better get between you and 'your detective.'"

"I never called her 'my detective'—that was Marty trying to be cute."

She plopped back down on the pillow and turned her back to him, "I have to get some sleep. It will be a long day tomorrow...with me reminding the world that you're with me, and not her."

XX

She heard the elevator chime and looked up as Castle stepped off. Actually she had heard the chime eleven times and her head popped up with each. Hopefully no one noticed how jittery she was this morning. Finally he was here.

The interview had left her blushing and pensive. He had done everything she told him to not do. Instead he'd repeatedly come to her defense. There were times when she wondered if he had actually noticed her at all. Even thinking it caused her to scold herself, she sounded like a junior high version of herself. They had worked together. They had discussed both work and non-work things. But that didn't mean that he...she let the thought go, and mumbled under her breath, "Grow up Beckett."

Before he got to her the boys jumped up.

"Yo bro, what a suck up!" —which Castle interpreted as, you've got the boss's back, good work.

Then Ryan piled on, "You talked more about her than us, surprised you didn't bring the teacher an apple." Castle let out a laugh, he was really enjoying this.

He passed by after a couple of high fives and walked up to her desk.

"Detective Beckett, how are you today?"—his voice cheery, his hands bearing coffee.

She offered a restrained smile, "Thank you for the coffee, Castle."

"Happy to be of service. What's up today?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure!" he responded, giving her an all teeth smile.

"How do you think the interview went last night?"

This gave him pause. He'd been thinking about last night, a lot. The conversation at home had been anything but pleasant. He had never seen Mel so agitated with him, she seemed like a stranger. His comments about Beckett had set her teeth on edge and she was again begging for a fight. Despite her accusations, he believed he'd been honest and neutral about his work with the PD and the events with Batman. But his comment about being in debt to Beckett had pushed all of Mel's buttons; she was furious.

"Hey Castle, cat got your tongue? Where are you?" She waved her hand back and forth in front of him.

He startled a bit, "What did you say?"

"Well, I asked you how the interview went, you zoned out and then I asked, if a cat got your tongue."

"Oh, that's what I thought you said, hadn't heard the 'cat thing' for a long time, now twice in less than twelve hours." He paused for a few seconds. " It went fine...I think. She tried to bait me a couple of times and then one last shot on the IA question."

She frowned at him, "Didn't I tell you not to defend me? Or was that my imagination?"

"I think you said something...like that."

"Like that? Like that Castle! No, I specifically said, _Don't try to defend me during the interview_." Her voice increased in volume.

"I thought I was pretty neutral in my statements."

She could see this wasn't going anywhere, "OK, let me ask it this way. Has anyone since the TV show suggested you were taking my side?"

He looked away, he really didn't want to do this with Beckett. He stood up. "You know, I'm going to go get a coffee." And he pointed in the direction of the break-room.

"Castle, you have a cup in front of you," she pointed out, sliding his cup towards him.

"I...I need...I need one from there." He stood and walked away.

Five minutes later Beckett walked into the break-room and found him sitting at one of the tables stirring the precinct coffee with one of the wooden sticks. She sat down across from him. "You OK?"

When he looked up his face was somewhere between bewildered and tired, "Yeah. It was just your question...seemed like you wanted to argue over what I said and…and I've already been through one knock-down-drag-out at home. I don't have it in me to fight with you today over that stupid interview."

"Castle, I'm sorry. I was just teasing you. Thanks for all the good things you said about me and the boys. The Captain is real happy."

"I'm glad somebody is happy."

"Will it be OK at home?"

"Yeah. It will take some time. I just can't us the B-word for awhile."

"B-word? You mean bitch?"

"No!" He smiled weakly at her, "Beckett."


	7. Chapter 7

**The Interview**

 **Chapter 7**

It took six days to solve the murder. The key ended up being the videos. The uniforms had located a number of camera sources near the scene. One showed a middle aged male who appeared slightly off-camera and then sped up and walked quickly away toward 41st Street. He then turned east and a string of camera sites showed him up as he continued walking. After several blocks he slowed substantially, no longer moving fast. Like a frog leaping, camera after camera picked him up as he would come into view and then continue moving away. It was one of the feeds that Castle and Beckett had found that gave them the break. Six blocks away, and not far from the bat incident, the man could be seen going into an alley, and less than a minute later, reappearing. In all the videos he'd been carrying a bag, but when he came out of the alley, it was no longer with him.

After a thorough search of the dead-end alley they found a bag under some old cabinets left for junk. It contained a gun which matched the caliber used in the murder. What confused Beckett and the team was why he hadn't just thrown it in a dumpster. Castle suggested he was coming back to retrieve it. "A Glock 31, .357 costs over five hundred bucks. Not exactly a 'thro gun.'"

Esposito's head popped up and he teased, "And how do you know what thro gun is?"

"Detective, I do read. And there's no question about it, a Glock is not a gun you'd throw away."

Since no one had a better explanation, the gun was taken out and replaced with a similar model from the police weapon recovery facility, which had thousands of recovered firearms to chose from. The big difference between the gun in the bag, and the one it was replaced with, was the replacement didn't work. The idea was the owner would do a snatch and run. It was unlikely he'd examine the bag's contents, beyond a cursory feel and weight check. A brick might have even worked if it was shaped the same.

Four days after the shooting a teenage boy went into the alley and rummaged around for the bag. Once the tracker in the bag moved, the police were alerted and began following the signal. The well-hidden video camera ID'd the boy and the intercept was made within fifteen minutes.

It ended up that he wasn't the perp. He had been approached at a hangout for skaters. A guy asked him if he wanted to make $50 for twenty minutes of work. The kid agreed and returned with the bag. What worked for the kid, didn't for the man. Ryan and Esposito, who were hidden at opposite ends of the location, were waiting to make the arrest.

Andy Hill turned out to be someone who had previously invested with the dead man. The victim had been a rainmaker. He would come up with investment ideas, and then find people who were interested and wanted to invest. He always warned his potential investors that there were risks. Most people wanted the big return and feigned an ability to take the downside, if it happened. This had always concerned vics fear and he tried to weed out those he felt were to too susceptible to the risks.

Hill had been desperate, and ended up investing far more than he could afford to lose. When the project went south, he had demanded that his money be refunded. But the truth was, there was no money. The failure wiped out everyone, including Jordan who had simply moved on to the next idea and worked his way out of the early loss. Hill on the other hand seethed and began to drink. He ultimately decided that if he was suffering, so too should Jordan. In the end, he concluded the best remedy was murder.

XX

A week after they took the pictures and clue cards off the murder board, Montgomery called Castle into his office. As he stood to respond to the Captain's call, Beckett's eyes went wide. Her initial focus was on Castle, but then she pivoted to look at the Captain. She found that he had already turned around and was moving back into his office. Castle, in a low voice whispered, "Beckett, what's this?" His voice was uncertain, his eyes looking to her for direction.

All she could offer was a weak, "I don't know." She watched as Castle closed the door behind himself.

It had been a couple of months since her return from vacation, but it seemed like a hundred years ago now. When she had arrived and the boys had told her about the tag-along she scoffed and could hardly wait for it to end. But then, like dominoes, teetering and then knocking the next one down, her world began to shift. Their working together created a sense of comfort for her, even their bantering, which they had slipped into almost immediately, was a source of pleasure. The IA thing had upset him far more than her. She had watched him go from frustrated anger, to ranting and then to silence. It was disconcerting. She was not terribly worried by IA's nosing into the incident, even with the unseen risks. There was no question IA had destroyed careers, but this was not one those situations. And now Montgomery wanted her de facto partner to chat; she wondered, why.

XX

The conversation was brief. IA had asked to interview Castle to aid in their investigation of Beckett. They had no jurisdiction over him, and if he agreed it would be voluntary. He would simply be assisting in the process. The fact that he was at the precinct at the Mayor's request put him in a no man's land between cop and private citizen. Still they could only request the interview.

"They want me to assist them in building a case against Beckett?" He stood and paced in front of the Captain's desk. Then he stopped and looked out into the bull pen and watched her talking on the phone. His blood boiled. "Why would I do that? She helped me!"

"I don't think they want you to turn on Beckett. You're simply a key party to what took place."

"Do you think I should agree?"

"For most people I'd say no...but you're used to questions, even reporters. IA is no sharper at questioning than a prying reporter. Their work is more on facts and evidence. I think you could handle yourself and...it might help."

Castle paced some more, but finally turned and looked at the captain. "I will, with one condition: she has to be with me."

"You mean Beckett during the interview?"

"Yeah, with me! Present!" He then pointed at the two chairs side by side in front of the captain's desk, "Like this."

As the writer left his office, Montgomery tried to suppress a smile, but finally gave in and let out a small chuckle.

XX

The news troll had been doing her work. She'd read the real estate article and then, with the rest of New York, watched the encounter with the homeless man play out on video and in the TV news. Granted the cycle was short because there wasn't a lot there, but there were the two important characters, Castle and Beckett. As she pondered the interesting connections of these two, the next salvo hit.

Richard Castle had been on Channel 7 for a second time. The back story had been leaked that the Mayor had urged him to spend some time with the PD, to facilitate a new perspective on how they lived and worked, after his less-than-flattering remarks weeks earlier on the same show. In the second interview he talked about that night and the events the led up to the encounter in the alley. But to the troll, what seemed to grate at him the most were the accusations against Detective Beckett. He was highly protective of this cop. He'd been light and jovial during most of the interview, speaking generally about his time with the PD, but when the discussion shifted to Detective Beckett, everything changed. The first thing was his posture. He was no longer relaxed. Instead he moved to the edge of the chair nearer the host with his eyes lasering into hers. His voice became stern, the tone serious as he defended her. And finally, at end of the show, he paused, creating dead air on a live TV show, his final declaration of in indebtedness to 'his detective,' as the host had called her.

The troll mumbled to herself, "There's something going on with those two, and it's not just police work."

XX

At the end of the day, Castle called the Mayor's office for a second time. He was put straight through.

"Rick, what's up?'

"On Wednesday, IA is interviewing Beckett...and me."

"Yeah, I heard." Castle shook his head; he could never get the drop on this guy. "I've been doing some looking around. Someone's got an ax to grind against her. Probably has to do with her status as the youngest female detective in New York's history." He let out a small laugh, "The small-of-mind hate over-achievers."

"Can it be stopped?"

"I'm working on something, I'll see if I can get it done before Wednesday."

"I'd appreciate it, sir."

"Actually, you'll do more than appreciate it, you'll owe me."

"How can I owe you? It's your fault I'm even at the 12th...and getting beat up for the City of New York."

The Mayor laughed again, "Really Rick, give me a break! As I recall... it was your mouth that got you where you are!"

"Well, sorta."

"Like I said, you owe me."

"Thanks."

"Later Rick." The phone went dead.

XX

It was not a good night of sleep for him. The impending interview by IA was completely out of his ballpark. It gave him a sense of impending doom,which he could not shake. He was beginning to regret his agreement to talk with them. Thinking about it just re-kindled his anger. Then after getting all fired up, he'd have talk himself down and try to calm his racing mind, and then a new wave would hit him. He would've guessed he'd looked at the clock every hour of the night. He just wanted this over.

Across town Beckett was faring no better, but her concern was not IA. She had a union rep and they had talked about the event. They agreed it was a clean take down. IA could try to twist it any way they wanted, but it was a dead end. Someone swinging a bat is without question deadly force; she didn't have to explain much to justify her response. The complaint was baseless and just a way for another organization to get some free press—at the PD's expense.

Her concern was Castle. He had agreed to talk to them, but she had watched his swings in mood all week, from silence to highly agitated. Her attempts to allay his worries had not gone very well. In the end, he had just clammed up and left.

XX

In the end the interviews had been delayed until Friday, without explanation. Castle guessed it was IA's way of creating more pressure. It was clear to Beckett that her sometimes tag-along had not slept well for the last few nights. His foot was tapping nervously as he scrolled through his emails. He jumped when she touched his arm.

"What?" he started, his eyes popping up.

"Castle," she said, her voice low, the words palliative, "you have to calm down."

"I am calm!" He was unable to mask his defensiveness.

"Then tell your left foot. It sounds like a woodpecker."

"Sorry." His foot stopped.

"What do you say we go to lunch once we're done here? Maybe food will get your heart rate down to a hundred beats per minute." She laughed at her own joke, trying to distract him before the interviews started.

"My heart is not racing. It's just..."

XX

The IA officers had been in Montgomery's office for only five minutes. The door had been closed. When they exited, the older of the two walked over to Beckett's desk. "Detective Beckett, Mr. Castle, we're going to need both of you in the extra office in five minutes." He pointed to the open door that doubled as a conference room. Without adding anything more he walked away.

Castle spoke first, "Together?" He had not told Beckett of his demand to the Captain. He was pleased they had acquiesced.

"Yeah, that's very strange. I've never heard of it happening. Not their MO, we'll have to see."

The group was assembled: the IA officers, Beckett and Castle. There was no preamble. The younger cop took the lead. "Mr. Castle, Detective Beckett, my name is Berg, this is my partner Tarola. We'd like to begin with Mr. Castle, but, before I start, do you have any questions about this interview?"

Castle thought, Y _eah_ _,_ _a ton!_ but both he and Beckett shook their heads indicating no.

Tarola started the recording device and Berg began the questions. "Mr. Castle. First, this will be recorded." Pointing at the machine on the desk, he continued, "Can you tell me what transpired on the night of the murder investigation on 41st Street once you and Detective Beckett started your search for video sources?"

Castle sat up straight. "We decided to start at four blocks out, which would be just past the area searched by the uniforms. They were to cover from the scene outward to a radius of three blocks," he made a large circle with his hands and spread them outward like concentric rings. "We wanted to find every possible source beyond the three blocks. As we searched we kept to the sidewalks and illuminated street areas." He paused to allow a question, but none came.

"As we approached the area where the incident occurred, we heard a noise down the alley, but it was nearly pitch black. Beckett...I mean Detective Beckett looked to the right side of the alley, and I saw something long and shinny coming from our left. It was like a ninety degree angle to her left shoulder or maybe even slightly behind her. It took a fraction of a second for me to process that it was a bat and it was coming towards her. At the time she had her penlight in her left hand shining it down the alley wall. I reacted and jumped between her and the approaching bat. It struck my ear and over my eye, then ricocheted off my shoulder. I finally saw the man. I had instinctively swung up my elbow and struck something. He coughed and sputtered, and then vomited on me. I thought he was done and then suddenly he reared up and came at me again. This time Detective Beckett reached across and struck the man with her right hand. He collapsed. She immediately called for assistance."

Berg asked the next question, "How long do you think the interaction lasted?"

Castle looked across the room and focused on a spot, after a few beats, "I would say ten to twenty seconds from beginning to end. It was very fast."

"Thank you Mr. Castle."

Tarola took over and turned to Beckett, "Detective Beckett, has Mr. Castle described the events on the street accurately?"

"Yes."

"Do you agree with his estimate of ten to twenty seconds for the entire incident?"

"Yes."

"Did you see the bat or the swing?"

"Not until I heard it thud into Castle's shoulder. Then I actually saw what had made the noise."

"Did you expect the second swing?"

"No, after the man vomited I thought it was over, then he swung the bat back up preparing to hit Castle again."

"Did he grip the bat with one hand or was it with both?"

"Both."

"Did you strike him with your hand or your gun?"

"The butt of my gun."

"Why did you not fire your gun?"

"I suspected he was a street person and was acting either out of surprise or, based on the strong smell of alcohol, confusion. I didn't think he was attacking with the intent to harm as much as to defend himself. I wanted to disarm him, not injure him."

The IA cop stared at her, then asked, "That's a lot of conjecture in a very short amount of time, don't you think?"

"Not really. I've worked alleys at night before. The first rule, is that you venture in carefully. Normally street people are frightened of someone harming them. Often they're asleep and are startled by your presence. It was one of the reasons we hadn't searched any alleyways before. We were looking for cameras, seldom are they in the alley areas."

"So someone bolting out of the dark was not a complete surprise?"

"It's always a surprise. But if you've worked out in your head what you'll do, the use of lethal force can be avoided."

Tarola closed his notebook, "Mr. Castle, Detective Beckett, we're done here. Thank you for your statements." He pushed stop on the recorder and extended his hand.

XX

Thirty seconds later they were back at Beckett's desk. Neither said a word but watched as the two officers picked up their things and headed for the elevator.

"Beckett, was that normal?"

She just shook her head no. "I don't know what that was."

Before either said anything more, they heard their names. "Beckett! Castle!" came the bark of Montgomery.

After they sat, he looked at each of them and smiled. "I just had a call from the head of IA, she informed me her agents would do a very short interview and be done. They've decided not to pursue the investigation any further." With another long pause and a shake of his head, he added, "I have never had those guys start and stop so quickly, but I'm not complaining."

Castle looked down at his hands. He was struggling to suppress a smile. No doubt his friend had come through. He did owe him. When Montgomery stopped speaking, he ventured a look. Both the Captain and Beckett were looking at him. Instead of speaking, he just shrugged.

Beckett spoke first, "Well, sir, that's a relief. Although I would have loved to give those guys as much crap as I could muster up."

"You don't kick sleeping dogs. Let's just let this one go."

Finally Castle spoke, "Captain I'm really happy about this, I've been sweating that interview all week. I was afraid they'd twist everything...but in the end, it was short and to the point."

"Well neither of you did anything worth their involvement. It's just one of the games we have to deal with here."

Beckett stood. "Thank you sir, Castle and I are going to head out to lunch. Celebrate a little."

XX

The waitress showed them to the table and they placed their orders before she left. Castle was looking out the window, still smiling, when his thoughts were interrupted.

"What did you do Castle? IA doesn't just go away!" Her tone cool.

He stared at her, with his best _wh_ _o_ _-me_ look. "Nothing, Beckett."

"You know I'm a detective? My job is to detect...liars...and I'm sitting with one right now." Her head shook with the last word.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." But he turned his head and studied something across the street.

"Yeah, you do! So look at me!" He returned to face her. "Did you call the Mayor?"

He didn't respond.

"Castle!" Her voice was now stern, "Did you get the Mayor to big foot this?" She didn't have to wait long for his response.

"Yeah!" His tone was emphatic, without a hint of apology. "Neither you nor anyone at the Twelfth did anything wrong. It was all crap! And it just fried me. So yeah. I called him and told him someone was after you...and I needed his help."

She was momentarily surprised by his unrestrained anger. "Castle," she admonished, her voice switching to frustration, "That's a cop's life, we weather these things. "

His face remained serious, his stare penetrating. "Not if I can help it."

She was suddenly in a two-way conversation, one with Castle and one with herself, "I wish you hadn't called him," _I'm so glad you did,_ then she added, "You know we would have gotten through it okay," _At least I hope s_ o, then finished with, "And tell me, when you go back to _your world_ , who's going to run interference for us?" but thought, _I will figure a way so you never go back._

"Beckett, it was just wrong. The Mayor put me here, so let him help me help you. "

"What did it cost you?"

"Nothing." But again he was shifting his eyes away.

"Liar." She let out a small laugh, "Have you been turned to the dark side, Castle?" And then she was struck with her second surprise, for just an instant, a trace of bitter anger skittered across his eyes.

"No way." This was accompanied by a cheesy smile.

She knew what she had seen: a brief exposure of raw nerve. She'd seen the likes in numerous interrogations. But this was enough for one day. No doubt Castle had his own problems, probably at home. She understood that all too well.

XX

When she got back to her place, Tom had left a message. He was going to run up north and see his parents. His mother had called said his dad hadn't been feeling well and that he really needed to go. He'd call her when he got back in town. He was sorry for the short notice.

She sat on the sofa with a glass of wine, her feet on the coffee table. She wondered about the state of her life. She hadn't gotten very far before her phone rang and her first inclination was to ignore it, until she saw Lanie's face on the screen.

"Hey Lanie, what's up?"

"I'm vegging, been a busy week. How about you?"

"Same. Tom is visiting his Mom and Dad this weekend, so it's going to be a quiet one for me."

"And how is the hunky detective?"

Beckett did not answer at first. In truth she didn't know. It had been downhill since the vacation, which had been both wonderful and terrible if such a thing is possible. She sensed that he was pulling away, and she wasn't sure she had it in her to stop him. She'd failed the test when she hadn't come up with the right answers to his questions about them, and their future. She heard Lanie's voice.

"Kate! You there?"

"I'm sorry Lanie, zoned out. What did ask?"

"About Tom. Are things OK?"

"I don't think so. I told you about our conversation at the end of our trip...and he wants what I don't have to offer." She went silent again.

"Are you OK, sweetie?"

"Yeah, Lanie, I am. I don't have those feelings...I wish I did. My hope was that they'd show up, but I'm afraid it's just me. It's like I'm destined to be alone."

"That sucks! You really feel like Tom is not the right guy?"

"I think he is the right guy...problem is, I'm the wrong girl."

"I'm sorry, Kate."

"Hey, let's talk about you. What's been happening?"

The conversation drifted to more pleasant topics.

XX

She had missed a couple of Saturdays after long and hammering weeks at work. But she didn't want to slip into a habit. Her dad was too important, and even two busy people can make time for one another.

As she slid into the booth, he looked up and smiled, " Well, well, if it isn't my prodigal daughter, returned to her dear old dad after weeks of fighting crime."

She smiled, "So...you've had too much coffee today."

He laughed and reached across the table, patting the top of her hand, "Yes my love, how are you?"

Her eyes stung instantly from the warmth his eyes shone, the unabashed affection in his words. She smiled at him, "I'm good, Dad."

"Well, bring me up to speed. The last time we talked Internal Affairs was getting ready to crucify you. Has the inquisition taken place yet?"

Before she answered the waitress arrived and they ordered their usual lunches. The conversation drifted in other directions while she nursed a cup of coffee and he told her about a recent case he'd been handling. But after the lunch plates had come and gone he returned to his initial question.

"You were about to tell me about the Internal Affairs thing, and we were interrupted."

"It's over, they decided to drop the investigation," she said matter-of-factly.

He was seemed surprised. "I didn't know that happened with them."

Her face turned serious. "It usually doesn't. For us, the everyday beat cops and detectives, we're normally a bone to be chewed."

"So what happened?"

She looked out the window and provided her one word answer, "Castle."

"Your tag-along writer?"

"Yeah. The one and only."

"What did he do?"

"He got the Mayor to quash the investigation."

"Why would he do that?"

"He was angry with IA and felt they..." she paused and studied her cup, " He just didn't like the idea of them stepping on me. He told Montgomery he couldn't let that go."

He said nothing for a few seconds, "What did Montgomery think about that?"

"According to him, he didn't like an outsider getting involved in police things, felt it would come back to bite us later..." She paused, her thought suspended.

"But?"

"He was glad Castle took it on his own to protect us."

"Don't you mean," pausing to make his point, "to protect you?"

"Yeah, but with Castle... it's not like that for him. He often seems to not even notice I'm there. He's really bonded with Ryan and Esposito and then when I returned I was, I don't know, a third wheel. He seems to look to them for direction, at least he did at first."

He studied her for a few seconds, "Yet...he goes to the Mayor, who sent him to the Twelfth because of something stupid he said, to protect you?"

"Yeah, confusing." She shook her head.

"Actually...I'm not confused at all." He broke into a satisfied smile, unusual for her dad. "I like this guy."

"Dad!" She swatted at him playfully. "So does the Captain."

"Yeah, I'm sure he does."

XX

The next few weeks had been fairly quiet. But a ritual had started with them, shortly after the second or third case together. Castle always brought her coffee. It embarrassed her at first. It seemed he was acting out of some unseen duty which she didn't expect. To him it was no big thing. Still he only brought coffee and a pastry for her. Regardless of the reason, that fact that he made the morning offerings always made her smile. He knew what she drank, and what pastries she liked. She'd hear the elevator ding, and knew it was time for him to arrive—she felt like Pavlov's dogs. She would always do the same thing, appear that she was unaware of his arrival. If necessary she'd just feign some urgent business. Actually she would listen to his approaching footsteps. He would hesitate and stand over her, while he watched her pretend, and also watched as color washed up her neck.

"Hey Beckett," he greeted her, extending the coffee to her.

She always accepted it, two handed like a cup of soup, and covered his fingers with hers. She was developing two needs, one for the coffee, and another for...pastry.

"Thanks, Castle," she said, finally meeting his eyes.

XX

Things in Richard Castle's life had changed since he started following the team of detectives. And they kept changing. He was writing. Making notes. Putting together pieces of a story. It wasn't clear yet to him yet, but it was in there. He noted interactions between two unspecified characters following a spirited exchange at the precinct. He would think about things he'd seen in an interview, noting the idea and mentally circling it. He might hear an inflection in a voice on a phone call, and store the emotional content. He was getting used to being at the police station. He arose earlier and went about things as though he had a nine to five job, a new trait for him.

He and Melissa had talked about his delayed departure from the Twelfth, but only in chatter, only during causal conversation. She found herself torn over pushing for an exit and keeping him happy.

Before the Twelfth, he hadn't written in months and she had watched him internally unravel. Like a tire with a slow leak he got lower and lower. She had been worried but she could not provide the spark he needed to get back to work. And then along came the shadowing business with the police. There was no need for a spark, it had acted like a bonfire. Suddenly he was scribbling and constantly pausing to write things down, his notebook was always with him.

Along with the writing came other benefits. When he created he was excited about everything, and she loved that side of him. He saw the world with fresh, even grateful eyes. She did not want his creativity to be stifled. Didn't want him returning to a listless shadow of himself. She did not like a sullen and moody Rick.

There was a price to pay for this, and it was the price that was vexing to her. She was not happy about the presence of Detective Kate Beckett creeping into his conversations and stories over dinner. But as of late her evasiveness had decreased. Melissa began to wonder if maybe she had been worrying about ghosts.

During this time he had not said anything about what he was writing. But as long as he was working at something, she could be patient and push aside her fears. At least for now.

XX

The ideas had struck him like a tidal wave. It was now 2:35 am and he had been fiddling with a new story line for days. But he kept getting stuck. The original idea had started with a public defender, like Melissa. But the story rolling out of his head was much different, with all the emphasis being centered on the police. He found himself trying to defend his uncontrolled imagination, which had been dormant for nearly a year. As he considered a different plot and worked with characters, he knew Mel would have had a fit if she knew that it had been she who had pushed him onto the idea.

Weeks ago she'd told him Beckett's story. The details of her family being victims of either a gang or a mob killing. He knew her mother had been stabbed and ended up dead in an alley. It was a terrible story. There had been no arrests, which meant no ending. It had taken a toll on Beckett, he decided, as he began to watch her more closely. But from that alley of death had come a fiercely driven cop. As he dug deeper, the news stories said that Beckett had been away at college in the West but that after the murder she'd returned to New York. She had never offered this information to him and he'd never asked. Once back she'd entered the police academy and within years had distinguished herself as the youngest female detective on the force, ever. Just as Marty from Channel 7 had explained. That history and the reality of who Beckett was, lent itself to an enigma-like quality – at least in his imagination – and from it flowed a host of story lines.

At 3:15 am he was still awake. He consoled himself with the fact that this new story line was certain to result in two angry women. He wondered what his idea would look like in the light of day, but decided it was late and he'd have to wait and see.

* * *

Again, thanks for reading. For all of you who: follow, favorite and send reviews a special thank you.

Finally, anything I write is always made better by my betas - SJ and EB Fiddler - thank you folks. Madreag


	8. Chapter 8

**The Interview**

 **Chapter 8**

When Beckett opened the door of her apartment, she thought she had stepped into a seafood restaurant. What greeted her could only be described as wonderful. Tom was cooking and it made her smile. His mother and grandmother had been great cooks and they'd passed on some of their secret recipes to him. Tonight was some fish thing, no doubt cooked in a buttery sauce. She salivated as she strolled into the kitchen.

"Hey Chef, what's cooking?"

He hadn't heard her come in and jumped, but quickly let out a reassuring laugh, "You scared me Kate...but...the specialty of the night is Grandma's famous scallops: coated in an egg dip, rolled in a special flour mix and then cooked to perfection in butter." With another laugh, he added, "And it's all diet!"

"Yeah right! Is that the remnants of a pound of butter there beside you?" She pointed to a crumpled stack of wrappers.

"Hey, I only used a little over half a stick of butter, I'm cutting back. Now go change, I've got some cooking to do. Dinner in 10 minutes."

An hour later they both were slouching on the sofa, their feet propped on the coffee table. She moaned, "Why did you let me eat those last three pieces of scallop? I think I'm going to pop."

He looked over at her and smiled, "I think it was the ten or so pieces that preceded the last three that did you in."

She groaned, "How could I be so stuffed and still want one more bite?"

"It's gotta be the cook!"

She flung an arm and swatted his shoulder.

"So, when we talked on Thursday you had your IA interview scheduled. How did it go?"

"It was...a little strange. Like I told you, they wanted to interview Castle, even though he's not a cop. He told me later he'd agreed, but only if we were together for the interview. Which was also strange."

"So what happened?"

"The entire interview was fifteen to twenty minutes long. Castle told the story and they briefly confirmed the details with me. Then we were done."

"I've never heard of them conducting themselves like that. Normally it's an inquisition."

"Afterwards, Castle confessed—after I called him a liar—that he'd contacted the Mayor, who pulled or pushed, but got it brought to a speedy conclusion."

Demming put down his feet and turned towards her. "You're telling me a civilian can get IA to back off an investigation, with a call to the Mayor?"

"I think 'civilian' is not the right word, more like 'friend' of the Mayor would be the operative word here."

"Sorry, that stinks! Think of how many cops have been ruined by IA, and that guy gets you a pass by calling a buddy."

"I'm just like any other cop...want nothing to do with IA. I'll take the pass."

"Do you mean that?"

"Tom, neither I nor Castle did anything...I mean anything wrong. I could have shot the nut with the bat and IA would still not have a case. So a gun grip to the nose is absolutely nothing. Like Castle kept saying, it was all crap. Somebody was either after the City or me. He pulled some strings to get it stopped."

Demming shook his head. "Watch your back, Kate...watch your back."

"You seem...unhappy that it ended so quickly."

"I'm unhappy that...that it took Castle...and that he has the power to make something like that go away."

She felt like she'd been punched. His response was not what she expected, but she wasn't sure whether it was Castle, or she and Castle working together that was bothering him. But why would he want some strange justice were she needed to go through a full IA investigation? The fun dinner had suddenly evaporated, the relaxed mood over and the post-vacation strain firmly settled in the eighteen inch gap between them on the sofa.

Burying her anger, she calmly inquired, "How was your Mom and Dad?"

"It was good that I took the time and visited them. It's hard to see my Dad struggling so much."

XX

At 9:45 Castle strode off the elevator, two cup of coffee in his hands. Beckett smiled into her paper work. When the cup was set quietly in front of her she looked up and offered a faint smile. "Castle, you don't have to do that." After her first sip she groaned, "Castle….what is this?"

"Your favorite, Beckett! Caramel macchiato!"

She shook her head. "You've worked with me for months and you bring me this? Do you ever listen to me, Castle?" Her voice dripped with impatience.

Looking truly confused he offered, "Sorry, I just..."

She was surprised at his response to her teasing, "Hey!" she laughed. "Just kidding you, thanks for the thought."

"Do you want to trade? Mine's just straight black. I haven't even tasted it yet, the cup was so hot it burned my hand." Before she could respond, he swooped up hers and replaced it with his, quickly taking a swallow, " Ugh, that is awfully sweet."

"Castle, I already drank out that cup!"

"I'm sure your germs won't kill me."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes at him.

Several feet away Esposito watched the coffee exchange and decided to causally meander over and stare at them.

"What's up, Espo?"—clearly annoyed at his presence.

"You two having a moment here?" Then raising the pitch of his voice, he teased, "Can I have a sip?"

In sync Castle and Beckett barked, "Shut up!"

Esposito let out a laugh. As he turned towards his desk he muttered, "Cute."

XX

Later in the week Beckett said she needed to pick up an evidence bag from another precinct, and she took Castle along. He was in a good mood; she was not. He figured he could banter her into a better state of mind, but was failing. If she refused to be happy, he figured he could at least pick the rational part of her brain, so he dove right in. He was certain she would have an opinion. So he asked.

The car went deathly silent, then Beckett turned her hate glare on him.

"What did I say?" He seemed honestly clueless, again.

"Do you really think _that_ matters Castle?"

"Don't give me the 'size doesn't matter' argument, that may be BS on a lot of topics but certainly not this one."

She decided not to hold back. "Let me be the first in line to tell you...you're an idiot." She bounced the heel of her hand off the steering wheel.

"Why do you get this way, Beckett?"

"What way, Castle?" She stretched out his name for emphasis and again hit him with the laser glare, "You say something stupid and I'm what, supposed to... "—then another head shake—"respond with 'You Tarzan, me Jane!' whatever you say?"

His mouth opened, but before he could speak, she continued, "That's not happening." She let out a huff. "One carat, two carat, or even three. _No. One. Cares!_ " She waved her free hand in his direction, "What is it Castle? Are you trying to prove something?"

"Beckett..." He was still finding her outburst humorous.

She knew she was verging towards ballistic, but she was on a roll and couldn't seem to stop herself. "Is she the love of your life...or…or a trophy?"

He just looked at her, fighting hard to look serious, but she could see laughter at the edges.

"What? What, Castle?" She was barking at him again. "What is so funny?"

"Am I laughing, Detective?" Now he was trying desperately not to.

"Ya think? I don't need to be a detective to see that smirk on your face."

He gave up on resisting the urge, and let the laughter spill out, "Wow, Beckett! Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed or what? Somebody pull your chain? I know...you didn't get enough coffee this morning."

She looked at him with a weak frown. " _You_ brought me coffee this morning."

"Just checking to see if you remembered." He shook his head from side to side, still smiling. "Dare I ask, is there any more you have to add on the topic of wedding rings?"

"Yes, one last thing," she replied, issuing her final glare: "Shut up!"

He mumbled, "Detective's having a bad day."

They rode in silence after her outburst. He studied the pedestrians, she focused on the Manhattan traffic. She refused to turn her head and make eye contact. The truth was, she was embarrassed, again. She had been telling herself she was losing it, and the outburst had just proved up her worst fear. Her objectivity over his pending marriage was non-existent.

He interrupted her thoughts, his voice quiet and serious. "Why do you think I'm making a mistake by marrying Melissa?"

And there it was. The elephant had moved from the corner of the room, smack dab into the center. She remained quiet for a few beats. "I don't know...there are...things."

"Things? Tell me Beckett, I respect your opinion, you're honest...when you're not cranky."

She let out a small laugh over the soft rebuke. "I put myself in your shoes...you know getting married and thinking about what I want...what I expect...what I'd see in my husband-to-be..."

"And?"

"Castle, I couldn't care less about the size of the ring...or a ring at all. I think about waking up with you...with a husband...near...messed hair...but loving eyes. Not just for today, but years from now...when the best of me has fled...maybe I'm too heavy or too skinny, or just out of shape...you get my point?"

He offered a barely audible, "I do."

"I want to know that holding my hand now, and then, will bring the same sense of peace...shelter...knowing that we love each other..and that I'm the center of your...of his life..."

He said nothing because he had no idea what to say. She had unknowingly bulldozed into his darkest fears. Those things he had tried to ignore, thoughts he had tiptoed around in his own head.

She sensed his tension, something she had not expected. Her rant had been offered to let off steam and she expected him to laugh it off. But he had grown painfully silent and now the strain was palpable.

"You've really thought about this, Beckett."—not a question.

When she spoke, it sounded more like wistful musing. "There is an unspoken mystery to love..."

When she did not go on, he asked, "What do you mean, unspoken?"

"Not the holding back of words, but...the insufficiency of words to explain... the mystery." She trailed off into silence.

He could not help but stare as she spoke. His eyes were wide as he looked at her, as she again navigated into places that were simply off limits to most. After a moment, he let out a plaintive laugh, "In our world, nothing is unspoken. Everything is shared, all framed in words, eloquent, concise..." but then he stopped.

"To quote Macbeth, 'signifying nothing." She paused, "There are things that cannot, and should not, be explained."

He was now turned sideways in the seat, staring at her. "Beckett, you OK?"

She spoke calmly now, like she was tired. "Castle, ignore me...my ideas on love only get me into trouble."

He shook his head, signifying she was wrong. "You're not in trouble with me, if that's what you mean. I need to hear those kind of things." He paused for a few seconds, stuck on something. " You know, you can be so busy in planning and working on _things..._ that you miss the whole point. And somewhere along the line, the _us_ , gets lost."

Still weary, she answered, "I suppose."

"Trust me Beckett, it can, and does. You're looking at a two-time loser here! My heart is marinated in fear, and apparently...poor judgment."

She quietly groaned. "Oh, Castle...that was not my point." They had stopped at a light, and she leaned her head against the steering wheel for a second. Then she looked over at him. "I'm not the one you're marrying. What I think, doesn't mean a thing. The _only_ person that matters, is Melissa. So back to the beginning: what kind of ring does _she_ want?"

He had turned away for moment but the kindness in her tone drew him back and he watched as she spoke. He thought to himself, she is stunningly beautiful. He wasn't sure he had ever _really_ noticed. He was suddenly mesmerized by her long fingers as they wrapped around the steering wheel. It dawned on him how much he liked _their_ time together. It had only been a few months, but it was _them_ that had stolen its way in and revitalized his life. Her voice stopped and he blinked and saw her green orbs focused on him.

"You weren't listening to me, were you?" she smiled.

"I'm sorry, I was thinking about the last few months," he apologized, but quickly shifted his focus and offered, "and how much I've learned working with the guys...with you."

She knew he'd offered a half truth. He was exposed and raw. She again warned herself to steer clear, to be less candid, more careful around him, "Well, my point was, do what Melissa wants. What makes her happy and...ignore me."

XX

She and Tom had decided on take-out. Chinese at his place. She had been quiet after her exchange with Castle. It left her emotionally conflicted, but at the same time sensing a strange connection to him. She knew she was not being good company.

"What's up?"

"Oh...just busy! Trying to figure out some things, with no solid leads. The guys are scratching their heads...maybe even starting to invest in Castle's weird theories."

"Why would they do that?" He paused and looked over at her, "Surely, you don't buy into that—he's just a writer, not a cop."

"He's...well, out there with ideas...and yeah, most are worthless, but he's also broken a couple of cases for us. So I listen."

"Kate, why?" He shook his head in disbelief. "What can he possibly add to the mix?"

She took a bite and shrugged. "It's hard to explain, but he does."

Clearly not convinced, Tom asked, "How much longer do you have to babysit the Mayor's boy-toy?"

She reacted faster than she would have preferred. "He's not the Mayor's boy-toy. Remember it was the 'toy' that got the IA thing ended."

It was his turn to react. "Yeah! Well, how much longer?"

Another meal, another conflict. But she sighed internally. She was just not up to it tonight. To try and smooth things out, [omit so] they watched a little TV, quiet in their own worlds. Finally blaming exhaustion, she said she was heading home. She kissed him on the cheek, promising to call him tomorrow, and caught a cab. He offered no objections.

After she arrived at home, she sat in the dark of her apartment and just thought. What was going on? Finally she decided to speak words that she had wanted to say for weeks. She hoped that if she let them out, even if only she heard it, they would leave her alone. "I don't want you to marry her, Castle." But she instantly knew that such an idea was folly, for the ache in her voice revealed the depth of her emotions. It startled her.

XX

It was another one of those nights, and sleep was elusive. His conversation with Beckett had acted like a ghost from nightmares past. Taunting him, ripping open long sealed doors. Unleashing a torrent of old fears and doubts.

He made his way to the roof, looking to the sleeping the city to help calm his frayed nerves. There was a world out there that he knew nothing about—people living lives full of all things he also lived with: happy moments, sad ones, togetherness and loneliness. Their presence, their success offered a benign comfort to him. They were making it, so why couldn't he?

The aroma of the Wolf Bros. Cigars told him that he was not alone. Gene, his elder neighbor, was up here somewhere. In truth he had probably gone looking for Gene in the first place. The smell of the cigar assured his presence.

Gene Herbert had to be in his early seventies. He had a career that spanned 40 years with New York Power & Gas. He and his wife Fran had a two children, a daughter Stephanie and a son, Bryan. The son had been a computer whiz kid. In his early thirties he and two friends had developed a software program that caught the attention of several multi-national computer companies. When the bidding for the program was over, he was a very rich man working as a consultant in the City. With his new found wealth, Bryan had purchased one of the lofts in Castle's pricey neighborhood.

This only son of Gene and Fran was shocked by his sudden wealth and wanted to share it with his parents, but they had shunned his offers. Each time he raised the subject they reminded him it that it was his and was the result of his hard work. He had earned it along with his prestigious job. So Bryan decided to make the gifts smaller and more frequent. He sent his sister and her family, as well as his parents, on trips they could never afford. He bought his dad a 1966 Mustang, a car he had always loved. His father was crazy about the car and treated it like his own personal Rembrandt.

For reasons Bryan's parents could never understand, their son's marriage of eight years had failed. He was crushed by the loss of his wife and chose to remain single.

In May of 1999, Bryan and some friends were dining at a street side restaurant in Chelsea when a speeding car veered off the road and struck the group of diners. Bryan and two of the six people at the table did not survive. In his will he left the loft, along with a great sum of money, to his parents. He had also set a generous trust for his sister and her children. His only request of his parents was that they live in the loft for as long as they liked, but when it was sold, he wanted the proceeds to be given to three charities that were important to him.

Castle had purchased his unit in 2004 and one evening shortly thereafter met Gene Herbert on the roof. He immediately liked the man. He was like a sage for Castle, maybe even the father he had never had. They had talked about many subjects. Castle smiled at the thought of the many late night chats. In reality, Gene had listened, and Castle had poured out his life to the man.

In 1967 Gene was in Vietnam as a pilot of an A-6 Warthog. When returning from a mission his plane had been hit by enemy fire. He discovered his radio was out and the plane was leaking fuel. Based on his estimation the carrier was too far away to reach. After quickly assessing his options he made the decision to eject. The problem was his location. There was no question that he'd end up in the jungle, but there was a river below him and his hope was that the could use the river to get to the ocean. He knew his chances were not good. He told Castle he was stumped and confused at the choice before him. It was counterintuitive to his training, and when he reached for the ejection switch he was shocked at what happened. As clear as day he heard an audible voice that simply said, "No! Stay in the plane." Gene was the first to admit he was not a religious man. He knew the voice had not come from his radio since it was dead. But with the voice, the confusion stopped instantly and he continued on to the carrier. The deck crew told they couldn't find any fuel in his tanks; they had no idea how he made it back.

He didn't tell many people the story, figuring everyone would consider him crazy. He recalled an old saying, "When you speak to God, you're a saint. When he speaks to you, you're a nut." So he kept it to himself.

After his hitch with the Navy he returned home to New York, married his sweetheart Fran and started their family. One day when he was mowing his lawn it happened again. There was no voice this time, no wind, nothing detectable, except a shift in his heart. He had gone to church with his wife and kids, but honestly was not interested. He liked the friends they made there, served as a volunteer, but mostly did crossword puzzles during the sermons. He had spent his entire adult life on the course he'd chosen. But the lawn incident had made a big impact. First, though he was not old, he had caught a glimpse of his own end. Secondly, his eyes were suddenly aware of the silent suffering that many people lived through, especially if you ventured beyond mere social greetings of 'hello' and 'how are you?' and tried to find out how they were really doing. He started to listen closer, look for clues and then offer what he could. No soap box. No TV show. Just quiet interaction with those who passed through his life.

Gene liked Castle. He found him engaging and honest. The man had a funny sense of humor, and after learning he was a writer, Gene dove into his books. He'd talk about the characters and question Castle on how he planned the story lines. Did he stick with his outlines or did the stories morph into something else along the way? He listened intently to Castle's crazy stories and the two often found themselves wiping away tears from spats of laughter. But he also heard and sensed a sadness in the author. He surmised it had its roots in the younger man's failed marriages and his brooding distrust of himself in the things of love.

Gene had watched the relationship with Castle and Melissa germinate and then bloom, but he saw the old fears began to creep in their conversations when he asked, "How are things going?" He learned that Melissa had wanted to marry but Castle had been slow to agree, slow to make the leap again. Wanting love was not finding love.

As the months had passed, from the perspective of the older man, things had calmed and Castle seemed to be settling into the idea. He told his wife he thought Rick was about to make the big decision for a third run at marriage. His wife Fran smiled and matter-of-factly said, "She's not the one." When Gene pressed her, she told him she'd tell him later.

And then things changed.

As a writer, whose fame was growing, Castle had been pulled into a sphere of friends who also lived in the public eye. One of those was the Mayor of New York City. When Castle had done his TV interview he'd made comments that irritated his 'friend' downtown. They smoothed things out by the writer agreeing to follow a team of detectives. Shortly thereafter Gene noticed a subtle but certain shift in the topics of their late night discussions. There were reoccurring themes but there were also new names added to the list characters in Castle's life, the most dominant, a detective named Beckett, along with Ryan, Esposito and Montgomery as well.

"Tell me about this detective?"

"What detective?"

"The one named...what is it?"—pretending to search for the name he knew well—

"Beckett."

"Not much to tell. She's the lead detective on the team."

"Is that so?"

"Gene, am I missing something?"

"Don't know. We've talked several times in the last few months or so and that name seems to pop up a lot." He paused and looked out over the sea of lights. "What do you think about her?"

"She's a great detective. Smart, intuitive and witty."

"Would I notice her in a crowd?"

Castle didn't answer at first but thought about the question, especially in light of his recent revelation during the 'ring discussion.'

"Is that a no?"

"No, not a no." Castle turned to face the man. "That would be wrong."

"Why?"

"Because she's stunning!" He paused and looked off to a distant spot, "With auburn hair, emerald eyes, long, thin, delicate fingers and long, long legs...she's...she's beautiful."

The old man laughed and slapped at Castle's shoulder.

"What was that for?"

"You forgot her dress size."

"I don't know her dress size." Castle looked perplexed.

The old man smiled widely. "Not my point. But stunning, emerald, delicate, long and beautiful"—taking a draw on his cigar—"That's quite a description of... _one_ of the detectives."

Castle again picked a spot on the horizon and said nothing.

"Seventy plus years have taught me a few things, Rick. First, I am a very poor reader of myself," he paused and let his eyes sweep the city lights. "It's always been a point of frustration. An enemy in my own camp, my resident strong-willed child."

"You think I'm misreading something here?" Castle voice reflected a weariness.

Gene let out a laugh, "If I can't read myself...I'd be a fool to try and read you."

"But you have an idea?"

"I'm just listening, Rick. It strikes me that there are two names that dominate your speech, Alexis and this Detective Beckett." He paused and turned to face Castle. "What's missing?"

"You're saying I don't talk about Melissa, and?"

"It suggests something to me..." But the older man paused, wanting Castle to sort through it.

"Gene, spit it out." His voice reflected resignation. "What does it suggest?"

"Corner your heart, and have it out." He drew on his cigar, blowing the thick smoke into the night air. "Just because I've been surprised by my own heart...doesn't mean I couldn't figure things out." He turned and stared at the younger man, "You're a smart guy, Rick, you can work through what it all means." Then his voice shifted to a jovial tone, "Let me know...and now, I'm off to get some sleep."

"Goodnight. Gene."

He returned to his study of the lights and the filler of traffic noise. Before he noticed, an hour had slipped by, but he had arrived at two conclusions.

But first he let out a laugh at his evasive reference to a 'conclusion': this wasn't a lab test. In truth, he inescapably came to two decisions, he knew both would make some people in his life very unhappy with him. But if he turned around and looked at where he'd been heading, as Gene had suggested, his heart already knew where it was going. He had just to sort it out.

He decided it was time to make some calls.

* * *

A/N - Thanks to all you readers, along with those who favorite, follow and send reviews.

To my betas I remain indebted - thank you SJ and EB.

Finally for those of you who celebrate Christmas, have a merry one.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Interview**

 **Chapter 9**

Kate Beckett watched for just a beat as Castle worked at something on his phone, sensing the familiar ache. She then closed the break room door and turned to face her friend, exasperation evident in her tone, "I can't seem to get a grip...on my...on things!"

"What are you talking about?" Lanie watched as Beckett began to pace around the small break room.

"For two years I've been with Tom, he wants to take this to the next step..."

The ME immediately jumped in, "What are you waiting for Kate? The guy treats you great." She let out a small laugh, "He actually got you to take a vacation...damn near a miracle."

"That's the point Lanie, and you're right. But he's not the problem, it's me. My head agrees with you. He does treat me great. He's in love with me and I know he wants to get married." Beckett stopped speaking, leaned against the counter and stared at her feet.

"What? Why does this feel like...I don't know, a but?"

Beckett shook her head, "On our vacation...the last day, he asked me if I loved him..."

"And?"

"I..." She looked at her friend and groaned, "I couldn't answer him."

Lanie sighed, "Really? You said nothing?"

"I didn't want to lie. I like him, a lot and I'm hoping...I'll be ready...but then, there's me."

"Kate what does, then _there's_ _me_ mean?"

"My heart just won't let go. I can't get it to follow."

"And why is that?"

"It's...it's complicated."

"You have got to be kidding me, complicated...complicated? I could beat you Katherine Beckett."

For the first time Kate laughed, "Well you have to get in line!"

"Honestly, I can't figure you out, and," Beckett started to speak but Lanie held up a hand, "So tell me what's so complicated."

When Beckett remained silent, the ME decided she wasn't finished, "You've got a man who loves you, wants to marry you... and what, you're confused?"

Kate spoke just above a whisper, as if she was trying out the words for the first time, "There's...someone else."

It was the ME's time to stand up and pace, "What! Did you say there's someone else? Who? Tell me right now, who is it?"

Beckett averted her eyes to a spot on the wall, "I can't."

"You mean you won't!" Hands planted on her hips, "This is insane! So tell me, just when do you have time for another guy, since you're practically living with one already?"

"I'm not taking time."

"Stop. Stop!" Her voice growing louder, "What in the world are you saying?" Shaking her head, "There's someone else...you don't see?"

"Have you ever seen a Magic Eye picture? You know the ones that you squint at to see the hidden image?"

'Why are you talking about weird 3D pictures? Are you OK?"

"No! I'm not OK. The things I think I want, I find out I really don't want that, I want something else, I see something that hadn't been in focus before, like one of those strange pictures."

"You're scaring me girl."

"Hey, I'm scaring myself."

"Who is this guy?"

Beckett's head dropped, "He doesn't even know I exist."

"I sincerely doubt that! Wait!" Stopping mid-stride to turn back and face her friend, "Tell me he's not married?

"No, no." Thinking, well n _ot yet._ Then she drifted away again, just staring into space.

The ME waited, "Earth to Kate."

"Oh, sorry Lanie...I was just spacing out a bit."

"On what?"

"This guy...has shown me how empty I am. And then it dawned on me that the reason I can't commit, and the reason my heart is refusing is because I wasn't with the right person."

"Whoa...what is this?"

"Not sure. But something in this guy has created a sense of loss for me...and feel...I'm pretty sure... he's the only that can fill it. I...I think I'm going crazy Lanie..."

"Oh you are so not Kate Beckett...if you were a train, you'd be completely off the rails here." She reached out and took her friends hand. "Speak to me..."

Beckett retained her far away look, "It seems that for so long, my life has been managed by death. I think I even feel it's cold fingers wrapping around my heart..."

"Yeah! You're a homicide detective and I'm an ME, we deal in death every day."

"Not just that, I think it goes beyond our jobs...what happens to us after pouring over crime scenes, death shots...you know, all that we do. We have this life...but it takes a toll..." She paused again, the ME waited. "When I try to do the everyday things...the things _they_ do out there in real life...it's just a role...because at the icy core of me...my heart knows I'm just play acting, nothing, not even love penetrates to thaw me out...I'm so tired of it Lanie."

The ME reached across the table and took her friends hand, "Girl friend, are you all right?" Concern deeply furrowing her brow, "Whats got all this going?"

Beckett had lowered her head and now raised it, there was a single tear coursing down her cheek, "Hope."

The ME wasn't sure she heard her friend, her voice had been so low, "Did you say hope?" Beckett nodded. "How would hope do that?"

"With hope your eyes are opened...you see a reality...one of, what might be...it lifts your head and lets you look out and see something better...something you don't have..."

"And all this is because of some guy who doesn't know you exist?"

"He knows I exist. What I mean is for him there could never be...never be an us." She paused again, "Like I said, it's complicated."

"Well after all that, I have to agree, it is complicated."

They were interrupted by a knock on the break room door, then it swung open half way, Castle stuck his head in. He'd been watching the two women talking and could tell it was something serious, but he couldn't wait any longer, "Ladies, sorry to bother you," then moving his eyes to Beckett, "I need to run, it's date night, see you tomorrow."

Beckett's face lit up for just a second, but the ME saw it. The the detective responded, "Sure Castle."

Lanie watched the brief exchange and in that moment, knew. Her detective friend was not lost, and was not confused. The last twenty minutes of conversation was suddenly very clear, Beckett was in love, and it wasn't with Tom Demming.

XX

After Lanie and Castle left, Beckett struggled to focus on work. It was time to go home. She didn't know how to account for the creeping anxiety she'd felt over the last months. In the past, her goal was always to close a case, as quickly as possible, but now she noticed a conscience act to delay, to push things out. She argued for more evidence, when in fact she had what she needed. She'd taken to late night walks, just to argue with herself. Saying she had really kicked up her game and was being more thorough than in the past. She knew it was a lie. What she wanted was this intruder to stay, and if a case lasted longer, he would do so.

Admitting the lie only made things worse. She was living on and off with another man. But some hidden force was pulling her to Richard Castle, it was like undertow. She was the one who always kicked the guys to the curb, but with him it was different. She knew it almost immediately, fortunately no one else had an idea. Or so she thought.

She took comfort in knowing he was with another woman. She used the fact to garner a sense of safety. It gave her space for this folly to correct itself. So why did she dislike Marrone? They had run into each other in the court room, the public defender verses the police detective. Beckett had won in both instances, but the counselor's clients were in dire legal straights, no one could of helped them. Still Marrone had done her best. In an attempt at civility, Beckett wished her well. But that was changing. She still wished her well, but with one condition, she had to be far away from Castle. She sighed heavily, this made no sense, was she safe because of Marrone, and simultaneously wanted her out of Castle's life? She thought and shook her head, y _ou need help!_

So back to the truth. She'd come full circle. She wanted him near and wanted to continue to working with him. So how could she make that happen?

XX

His first call was to his friend down town. He confirmed the monthly game for the upcoming Thursday evening. The Mayor said he was looking forward to beating everyone who showed up as well as hearing the most recent update from Castle's experience with the homicide team.

Before they hung up, Castle added,"Sir I'd like to discuss a couple of things with you. One as a reciprocation for your help on behalf of the Twelfth. I'd like to stay on there but I have a reason."

The Major let out a laugh, "Yeah Rick, she's a beauty."

"It's more than her sir."

"We'll talk. See you on Thursday."

The next call was to Gina. He told her they needed to meet for lunch, he wanted to bounce a book idea off her. He had in mind a completely new direction for him. She was immediately interested, in the past his ideas had made her rich. He knew she was still angry with him over the death of Derrick Storm, and was tiring of the wait for his next new character. She wanted an outline for a new book. He assured her his idea was good. Lunch was set for 1:15.

"Rick don't be late, I'm moving my schedule around for you. And this idea better be good."

"You're going to love it. Think Nikki."

"What? Whose Nikki?"

Now he laughed, "See you at lunch."

He sat and stared at the phone in the cradle. There were two other people who were at the heart of this idea, and neither would be happy with his plan. He felt like the Mayor could help on the research and the following part at the Twelfth, but that didn't mean Beckett would like it.

The other problem was Melissa. And it was going to be a monumental problem. He knew his new character was Nikki Heat. The fact that the story involved this cop and a reporter, Jamison Rook would infuriate her. But the idea was good, in fact he felt it was great, maybe even the best one he had ever come up with. He could see not just a book, but literally books. He needed this and he needed to write while his imagination was fired up. She would have to understand.

XX

After more than a week working on cold files, the team got a new case. Within twenty-four hours it was clear there were ties to the gypsy community. The victim was apparently well know, and had made a name for himself. Despite this information the team discovered that this community was very tight-lipped. All leads have ended up as dead ends.

Meanwhile Castle had been doing research and discovered there were a number of gypsy fortune tellers in New York. More work revealed a connection between the victim and a woman named Johns. After finding the address, Beckett suggested they make a visit. She hoped it might change their fortunes on this case.

They were surprised at the building upon arrival, it was not just in disrepair, but as old as dirt and in the place of charm, it appeared to sag at every window and door opening.

"This place should be bulldozed." Castle mumbled at Beckett as they made their way to the door and pulled the bell cable. "And those things went out with Boris Karloff."

"Castle!" She turned and scolded at him, "Could you hush and just observe?"

"Sorry, this is just...so strange." Delight seeping from his voice, causing Beckett to just shake her head.

They were not sure what to expect from this Madame. Castle found some references to her accuracy in seeing the future, but Beckett was not interested in the future. It was the past that was driving her nuts. It had already been a week since the murder and what she needed was a solid lead. Not one of the ten possible witnesses had anything to say, except for a single reoccurring theme of, 'talk to Madame Johns.'

When she and Castle entered the shop it was re-pleat with all the things typically associated with fortune tellers. Beckett quickly ran the movies through her head that the place reminded her of. Castle started to make sounds but she 'looked' him back to silence.

A woman in her late 40's or early 50's entered the area through a curtain of beads, "Detective Beckett, I've been expected you."

"How did she..." Beckett's hand swung out and hit Castle in the stomach. He let out a small groan.

"You must be Madame Johns, you know my name," and turning slightly toward Castle, "And this is..." But she was cut off.

"Richard Castle, I'm a fan." He bowed slightly and smiled.

Beckett started again, "We're investigating the murder of Bobby Romaine."

"Yes the word has gotten out about your investigation."

Before either could speak, they were interpreted by Castle's phone ringing. He pulled it from his coat, "Sorry! I'll go outside, it's Melissa...I need to take it." He swiped his phone and turned, Beckett heard him say, "Hey love, what's up?"

As he left she looked over her shoulder watching him make his way out the door, she hesitated briefly before turning back to the fortune teller.

"So Detective, how does your heart stand it?" Beckett actually choked on the woman's words.

"Stand what?" Trying to regain her control and plastering on her best cop face.

The older woman would have none of it. "Being in love with another woman's man?"

Beckett ignored the comment, "M'am, we're here investigating the murder of Mr. Romaine."

"Detective you can ask me what you want. But I know nothing about that piece of trashes death. I deal with the living, not the dead." She folded her hands and leaned slightly forward, "But this I do know, your heart is displayed in your eyes, to me. I see...well I think you know what I see. Since I cannot help you with your case, let me try to help with your life. His heart has not found it's home and it causes him a great deal of pain. But he has more to suffer before he can find his way. Unfortunately the greatest danger to your heart's desire is you. I see the future divided by your hand, your intellect battles with your soul, your heart...beyond that , I cannot tell what will happen."

Her attention was now fully on the teller, "What does that mean?"

"Your mind, intellect, is strong and probing, it's your Queen, if you follow my metaphor. But your heart, the soul of you, is your King and the two conflict. You will break the things most dear to you, if you follow the Queen."

"That's gibberish to me. It doesn't tell me anything." Beckett felt the flush spread as she glared at the woman.

"You'll have to figure it out."

Beckett eyes were wide. For when the gypsy spoke, her words conveyed not just a story, but the emotions of the story. As she was told of Castle's pain, Beckett fought to hold back her tears. When she schooled her on the dangers of her own heart and the split in the road, Beckett's felt as though a heavy weight had been laid on her chest, she struggled to breath and finally she gasped, "But how?"

The gypsy sat up straight again, leaning against the back of her chair, "Your

friend just got off the phone and will be here in a few seconds, you need to deal with what's going on between the you of two, before it's too late."

Beckett stammered again, but as she started to speak, Castle walked back in. With a weak voice she said, "Madame, thank you for your time. I wished you could of helped more. " She nodded to the woman and then turned, "Castle we're done here."

Castle looked surprised, but smiled again at the older woman, "Nice to meet you."

"And you too Mr. Castle."

XX

"What happened in there?"

"She said she knew did know anything about Romaine, but she was not sad to hear of his untimely departure." Beckett thought, _but t_ _he rest will never be told_.

Sounded deflated, "Well that was hardly worth the drive."

They stood under an awning for a few moments, waiting on another fit of rain to end. Castle studied the sky, the weather was terrible. The downpours suggested an Ark might be needed, and if the world wasn't flooding, New York was certainly having a time.

When it seemed to ease up some and they decided to run for the car, but before they got there, the down pour recommenced. Castle jumped in on his side, looking like a drowned rat.

"Little slow over there O'Ancient one."

"Ten years older and I'm not ancient?"

"Hey its a third of my life...that's a lot of time."

He huffed, "Well your side of the car is completed steamed up, you must have been in a race, but forgot to tell..."

"Yeah Castle, a race with Mother Nature!"

"OK Detective!" Pointing at the windows, "The defroster work in this thing?"

"It's old, it takes a little longer, like…"

"Like what?"

"I'm not comparing, I'm just stating a fact. Older things...are... a little slow on the draw. Give it some time...it'll catch up."

"Did the Gypsy treat you mean? And you're taking it out on me Beckett?" Turning to face the fogged windshield.

She had no intention of talking about was the Gypsy, "Well before you got...a little wet, you were going to tell me something. So what had you all hyped earlier today?" She turned to look at him, his eyes wide, but he finally spoke.

"I sort of… have an appointment." He smiled weakly, "Do we have time to go to Chelsea, so I can look at the Lighthouse for my wedding. It's at Pier 61, you know around 23rd and the West Side Highway."

Her voice devoid of enthusiasm, "I know where it is Castle."

"Good, the appointment is for 3:15, the regular person is out, but they have someone to show us around."

When she didn't respond he decided he'd overstepped, "Beckett, I can get a ride, seriously if you don't have time, I understand. I can take a cab."

She was barely listening as her mind drifted. She had decided some time ago that she did not want this marriage to happen. Did not want him marrying Melissa. She had even considered ways to delay it. Ways to move him away from this other woman. Now, he was now asking for her help, with the thing she wanted to sabotage. This, coupled with Madame Johns, scaring the crap out of her, was turning this day into a personal hell.

"Beckett, did you hear me? I can take a cab."

"No, you're not taking a cab," She paused focusing again on the conversation, "We can take a few minutes. But I have to tell you, this should not be done by _us_ , its for you an Melissa to do. She should be with you when you see it."

Without glancing at her he spoke to the window, "I trust your judgment Beckett."

"For the place you're going to get married in...to another woman." Her voice reflected surprise and a sarcastic edge.

He ignored her, "Beckett you've got great taste! I see how you dress. The coats you wear...you're like a coat and shoe diva." It made her laugh, her second compliment in ten seconds.

They made it to the site by 3:10. The down pour had stopped but weather was by no means good. The roads were wet and puddled from the the on and off rain. The sun tried to slip from behind a small break in the clouds, but without success.

A young woman, who identified herself as Shirley, met them at the office. She was clearly excited to show them around. "Mr. Castle I spoke with you earlier today." She extended her hand to shake, "So glad you could make it, and this is?" Turning to Beckett.

"This is Detective Beckett."

"Nice to meet you," quickly shaking Kate's hand as well. "I'm so glad you two are considering _The Lighthouse_ as a venue for your wedding." Before either Beckett or Castle could protest, she spun and headed out, motioning them to follow.

The girl chatted incessantly as they walked, providing details about the services, along with success stories of other weddings. When they arrived at the area for the ceremony, they were looking out over the Hudson River as storm clouds churned over head, it was a breath taking New York moment.

They walked to the center of an area near, the main windows, and she again motioned them forward. Castle arrived first and turned to Beckett.

"Hey Beckett, come stand here and look at this view."

She joined and was unable to suppress the surprise at the sights, "This is an incredible view Castle."

Shirley interrupted, "Why don't you two stand on those spots marked on the floor, and face one another."

After looking around they moved to the marked area and stood as directed. Castle looked at Beckett but she was staring out at the storm whipped water.

"Come on guys take one another's hand. Get a feel for this space."

When Castle looked back at Beckett, her gaze was fixed on him. The look on her face surprised him, though he was not sure of its meaning, and as he tried she quickly looked away. He reached up and tugged on one of her hands. She at that moment already felt exposed and didn't want to play bride-for-the-moment, "What?"

"Just humor her Beckett, I won't bite." He reached out and took her other hand, held both and smiled, but neither said a word. And at that very second the clouds behind them parted, allowing a single shaft of light to break through, flooding the spot they stood in dazzling light.

"Oh...Oh...my gosh!" Then again, "Oh my gosh!" The attendants voices interrupted the moment. While still holding hands they turn to looked at the girl. "I have never...never seen that in my life! Whoa! Oh...where is my camera when I need it?" She turned in a circle, "Wow...the light...is so beautiful." She looked up at the shaft and spoke to it and her guests, "If you needed a sign about your marriage...you just got it!"

Beckett started, "We're not..." But was cut off.

"Wow, the universe is like… like blessing you're union. Honestly, I have never, ever seen anything like that..." She turned again and scurried away, "I'll be back...have to find my camera."

Suddenly Castle and Beckett were standing alone. They released one another's hands. Castle spoke first, "Where did she go? She looked like she'd seen a ghost."

Beckett reached out an took his hands again, pulling slightly and eliminating half the space between them, "Castle I'll marry you here, any day." Then dropping his hands she turned and walked off towards the exit.

He arrived at the car five minutes later, after thanking Shirley for the tour. After sitting he didn't bother putting on his seat belt but stared out the window.

"Castle you gonna buckle up? We gotta go."

He turned to face her, his face serious, "Why did you do that Beckett?"

"Do what?" Using her best cop face.

"You know what...the I'll marry you here any day thing."

"I'm just pulling your chain." but her voice betrayed something more.

"And?"

"And what, you weren't done."

Now she faced him, "Because you ignore me, like I'm not here, so I like to bug you." She was surprised at her own comment.

"I don't ignore you!" After a pause, his tone turned more reflective, "All my life, at least as a writer, I've been involved with the beautiful people. They treat everyone different, as if the whole world is under their spell. Beautiful women treat me as some sort of treasure...but in truth it has nothing to do with me," tapping his fingers against his chest, "It has to do with the persona, some other me...the author." He took a slow breath like he was suddenly tired. "They wield their beauty. So I've learned to be cautious. I'm like every other man...I'm not blind, but I know I can be vulnerable and ignore my own good judgment." He shook his head.

She looked at him, like he was speaking a foreign language, "Castle, what are you talking about?"

"You Beckett! You fall into the beautiful category. The women who turn men down and send them on their way, but have never been turned down themselves. It's a special club...and I keep it at a healthy distance between it and me."

"You mean like something toxic?"

"Your words." His finger pointing at her.

"Well first of all, I've never considered myself part of your 'beautiful people,' nor am I in some fictional club."

"Fine, how many men have you turned away Beckett? Give a number!"

"That's not fair. You're telling me if a guy at Starbucks asks for my number, I'm suppose to give it to him?"

"That's not what I'm suggesting and you know it. Yes you are beautiful! And yeah you're in that league. You know you can have any man you want...all are within your reach."

"You're nuts!" She glared at his accusation, "The ones that count are not within my reach."

"Give me an example Beckett!"

"We're done with this conversation." She started the car and pulled into traffic.

The fifteen minute drive back to the Twelfth was done in silence. Between the 'light show,' and 'I'll marry you any day,' and then Castle's rant, any possibility of a casual conversation - was dead.

"I'm sorry Beckett." He paused, "I don't think you toxic, I'm just a little shell shocked… don't trust my own judgment. It's got nothing to do with you and I'm sorry if I seem to ignore you."

"Don't worry about, it, I was just trying to tease you."

He laughed, "Well you did a good job if you're trying to rattle me." After gazing out the window, "Will you tell me what you think about the place?"

"Of course." Her voice calm, the tension dissipated.

"I want the truth, do you the place will work?"

She had said little after his comments but still felt outed. After his rant, her breathing had calmed but she had a hard time looking at him. Fearing the truth was written all over his face.

"You really want my thoughts?"

"Yeah, that's why I took you."

"Well." She paused, and took a deep breath, "I just don't think it would work for you and Melissa."

"Why not?"

"I...I just see her as a big church sorta girl."

"Why would you say that?"

"Just my gut Castle...you should talk with her."

"It's the light thing isn't it?"

"What light thing?" Working hard to pretend she was clueless to the reference.

"The light shining on you and I...like we were getting married...creepy."

"Not creepy, actually beautiful...like I told you... anytime," Keeping it light she punched him in the shoulder and laughed.

"What?" He seemed truly confused.

She laughed, her tone light, "It's a joke Castle...a joke, lighten up." She gave him a cheesy smile, "Just don't think it's the spot for your wedding."

XX

She read and he fidgeted. When she looked up at him, he would turn his focus to the magazine he was attempting to read. Her tone rang of impatience, "What Gene?"

He pretended to be confused, "What Gene! What?"

"You have something on your mine. You're acting like one of your grandkids."

"Fran I have no idea what you're talking about."

She closed her book and put it on the cushion next to her, "Why don't you just tell me."

He shifted again. She smiled to herself, thinking he looked like a child who'd finally got his parents attention. Finally he spoke, "Awhile ago you said that Melissa was not the one for Rick, but it wasn't a fleeting comment, it was more as though you were stating a fact." He paused and put out his hands, palms up, "How do you know that?"

"She's not!"

"There! You did again." He gave his head a shake, "So help this feeble mind understand."

"It's not that big of a mystery. I just never got the right...what's the word, vibe, from Melissa. She's a nice girl, she's just not the one for him."

"And that's it?"

"Pretty much, except..."

"Except what Fran?"

"Before I tell, think about this. You go up on the roof and smoke those stinky cigars and talk with Rick all the time. You really haven't figured it out yet?"

"Fran, I thought you like those cigars?"

"No. You tell people I like them. I think you smell like…well never mind." She flicked her hand at him. "Back to Rick, you really think she's the one?"

"No. But you're a lot smarter, and much more perceptive than I am. So tell me your reasons."

"Beside not sensing they right, there's something else. About a month or so ago, you remember when Rick was on the news for getting hit by a street person with a bat?"

"Sure."

"That same evening I ran into a woman out in the hall. I said hello and she smiled and said she was waiting for Castle. I laughed when she called him 'Castle,' and told her it sounded funny. I had never heard him called by his last name only, but she said he was working with her team of detective and everyone uses last names. She then said she was waiting for him while he changed his clothes."

"So, what's that got to do with Melissa?"

"You asked me why I thought Melissa was not the one, again I just know it."

Trying to remain blank he asked, "What was the cops name, if you remember?"

"Of course I remember. I watched the interview and listened to him gush about her, it's Beckett."

"And why do ask?"

"Because it's her...well, what I mean is... that's what I sense. This Detective is the one for him."

"Interesting, for once we agree."

"On this Detective Beckett?"

"Yep, we're on the same page."

"So why didn't you tell me that at the beginning of all this?"

"I wanted to hear what you thought. I trust your intuition a lot more than mine."

"Gene Herbert, you underestimate yourself" She stood and walked over and kissed him on the top of his head, "It's why I love you."

He smiled. "I hope Rick is as lucky as I've been."

* * *

A/N - My thanks to all of you who are reading, following, favoring and sending reviews. It is your participation that give life to the writing process. Thanks again.

Things have been very busy over the Holiday season thus the delay. Hope you enjoy.


	10. Chapter 10

**The Interview**

 **Chapter 10**

If she had been more observant, she would have known. Would have seen what was going on with her boyfriend. But she didn't. He had became increasingly upset as she would tell about her days work sprinkling the story with Castle's name. In fact their first big argument over Castle had come when the writer's contact information popped up on her cellphone.

Now, weeks later, there were frequent texts with questions over details on procedure that he could not understand. All this was in the name of research. At first, Demming complained. She and her tag-a-long spent days together, so why couldn't she answer his questions then? Why did this interloper have to interrupt their evenings? Her explanation was was always the same. He wrote at night and during the course of most days, there simply wasn't enough time.

But there was a deeper, unspoken point of contention between them. At least for Demming. It was how Beckett would drift away on the phone. Pacing and chatting with the guy for twenty minutes at a time. Then she'd return and try to pick up the string of their last conversation. It was evident that she was not interested, and her feigned attempts just angered him. But what was clear, was that she had no interest in what she'd missed. The bottom line was that she wasn't there in the first place.

When the phone rang, more that once in the same evening, he was filled with frustration. He would then lean over, kiss her on the cheek and whisper, "I'll see you later." To his surprise she seemed OK with his early departures. No fuss, no fight, no telling the writer she had to go. She just waved and continued with her call, answering questions and occasionally laughing. It was as though someone else was in the room, and Demming was the interruption. With these changes, he began to see a 'new Kate.' One that he did not even know, and was not interested in marrying.

XX

Melissa Marrone had gotten in late and left early for the last few days. As she ran out this particular morning she reminded him, through a sleepy haze, that they'd meet later for coffee.

As he dressed and headed out the door, he brimmed with excitement over telling her about the venue he'd visited the day before. When he arrived he spotted her across the shop and waved indicating he'd get coffee. From the line where he stood, he could tell she was on the phone, either reading or responding to an email. After a five minute wait for their order, he arrived and sat down her cup of coffee along with a bag containing scones. Meanwhile her thumbs hammered away at some message she was typing, she glanced up smiled, "Thanks."

When she was done, they chatted about her current case for a couple of minutes. She apologized for being so busy.

He smiled back, "I understand. I think I'm getting use to your trial and court demands."

She reached over and squeezed his hand, "I'm glad you understand. Most of the time it seems like my life is governed by the court's calendar, and not my own." She paused, "So what have you been up to the last couple of days?"

He beamed, "I have good new, we went by the Lighthouse at Pier 61 yesterday to take a look."

She looked up, " _We_? I thought you were at the police station yesterday?"

"We were out and in the area so I swung by."

Her tone harsh. " _We_?"

"Yeah, Beckett and I...interviewing a possible...lead…a fortune teller. Weird place. I have to show it to you sometime."

Melissa's face took on a scowl, ignoring the fortune teller comment, "You took _her_ to one of our possible venues for the wedding?"

"Mel I thought you'd be pleased I took the time?"

"I am pleased, but it would have more meaningful... if you had done so with your future wife, not some cop."

There are times he wondered if he was going crazy. He had tried to surprise his fiancée by dropping by to look at a spot they had discussed. but now she was frosting up like the ice queen, because Beckett was in the car. The insult to this irony, was that Beckett was also offended that he would take her instead of Melissa. He'd decided he'd do the next one alone.

He tried again, "I just wanted to see the place and we were near," he paused and without thinking added, "You sound just like Beckett." His tone flat and defensive.

If looks could kill he would have been dead, "I what?" But she stopped and grabbed her coffee.

He sat quietly for a moment, hoping the caffeine would sooth her. His thought were interrupted by a gagging noise. Melissa's face contorted, like she'd just drank vinegar, "What is this Rick?"

"You're favorite, a grande skim latte with two pumps of sugar free vanilla."

"That has _never_ been my favorite!" As she looked out the window, her face turned hard. "And...the way you just spit that out...tells me you've ordered it more than once!" She paused again, putting on her lawyer face and then bored in, "Who drinks this crap?"

When he said nothing and looked away, she waited in silence, "Rick, look at me! Is this _her_ drink?"

Again he did not respond. Melissa stood, grabbed her brief case, and shot a final cold stare, "I've got to get back, I'll see you this evening." She took two steps and turned around and hissed, "You can tell me about the location then."

He had stood, hoping to stop her, but then sat down and stared at the two cups of coffee and shook his head. He had to make a point of keeping the women in his life separate. Where Beckett teased and laughed off the mistake, Melissa was not so generous. He needed to be careful in his discussions to limit any references to Beckett or his police work. There was no questions, when it came to either subject, for Mel, there was no love lost.

XX

The house was now dark. Melissa was long asleep, but he could not slow down his brain. The discussion about the Lighthouse location for their wedding had not happened. Melissa had gotten home late and was still angry with him.

As he sat alone in the great room, Beckett crawled back into his head. Her comments about rings, and love, and what it all meant to her, had pried open doors he had long keep shut. They were doors he had no interest in looking behind, but now the old besetting fears were again flooding his heart. He decided to go to the roof, maybe fresh air would help.

It was a balmy clear night. The air smelled fresh from the recent rain. He took in a deep lung full and breathed out, trying to calm himself. As he made his way around the roof he saw the silhouette of his friend Gene sitting in one of the lawn chairs. His feet were propped up on the parapet wall, a cigar in his mouth.

Without turning to look he spoke, "Rick, that you?"

Castle let out a small laugh, "Who else would come up here in the middle of the night?"

"Have a seat on one of our WalMart's finest." Pointing at the flimsy plastic chair beside him.

"Thanks." Castle sat and sighed. "What brings you up here Gene?"

"The usual, as you know...I don't sleep that much. But...the real question is, what brings you up?"

"Ah, I don't know." Letting out another sigh.

"You know Rick, you lie as poorly in the dark as you do in the light."

Castle remained quiet for a little while, then, "Something at work, just won't let go."

"You talking cops and robbers, or writing?"

"Cops."

"What? A difficult case?"

"No, not a case."

"OK." Stretching out the word.

"We were driving across town, I commented that I was struggling with what size ring to buy Mel for the wedding. Beckett launched into this thing about..." He stopped and folded his hands in his lap.

"About what?"

"That the ring means nothing. That only love is important...how she wanted to wake up in twenty years next to the man she loved, knowing that she was the center of his world."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No! Of course not, but it made my talk about size, and diamonds seem stupid. Meaningless. She was talking about the magic of love. I was talking about the trappings." He paused again.

"This Beckett...she seems to... really get under your skin?"

"That wasn't what she was trying to do," He paused and his tone remained flat, "She was just speaking her heart."

"So what was it that upset you?"

"She was right. She was thinking deeper, thinking much...longer than I."

"Longer?"

"You know, down the road, years from now, when we're changed by time, and only love will count."

"She sounds like a smart cop and smart woman. But why does that bother you?"

"Because I hadn't thought that far. Hell, I haven't thought beyond the honeymoon and... here's Beckett reflecting on – a love for the ages."

"Rick..love is for the ages."

"I know, I know."

"Well...you answered that too fast." The older man turned and stared at Castle, waving his arms like a conductor of the night sky. "Love is a mystery, it is almost unexplainable." He paused and waited for Castle to make eye contact, "It's the antidote."

Turning to look at the old man, "Antidote? What does that mean?"

"It's the cure and protector of our short comings, our emptiness."

He stopped and let Castle consider what he had said. He had been in many conversations with the younger man. He'd sensed something was going on, maybe even subconsciously between Castle and the detective. She had indeed gotten under his skin. Invaded his world, and not with just insight into police work. Somehow there had been a deeper connection. She was able to push aside the buzz of planning a wedding, forcing him to think seriously about what he was doing. "Do you wonder why you and the detective...click or maybe even clash so much?"

"I do. But, I can't explain that either." He let out a weak laugh, "We seem to think in unison. It can be frightening at times."

"Thinking alike is not dangerous."

"It's not just alike. It's more of a reading of one another's thoughts. We arrive at the same the conclusions, simultaneously. It makes us, and everyone around us, laugh." Castle smiled as he thought about the last time it had happened.

"I can imagine. So tell me, what do think about this... _unusual_ connection between you and this woman?"

"Honestly Gene, I don't know. She's a real mystery to me...and I'm not looking for a mysterious women to understand."

Again Gene let silence do some of the work, "This may not sound related, but I think it might be." Leaning forward, hands on his knees, "I have learned that we are best at breaking things. We are the problem...and no one else. Life is a balancing act! Looking to the future, but accepting things as they are...finding a degree of satisfaction with where we are." He sat up and looked out onto the City. As he did his voice turned even more solemn. "But there is a potential danger in us, a life-paralyzing thing. I've seen it over and over, in people, in my friends and even myself. We set aside something good or even miss something great, for something that is allusive. Something I think I want, even need...but in the end I've traded all I have, for something I already possessed. And in the trade, in my folly, I missed it. Only then do I discover...that in this exchange, I got something of a much lesser value..."

Castle was not sure he understood, but listened and waited. But his friend had no more to add. Even though he sensed him his presence, it seemed as though he was far away.

"Are you telling me, I've swapped something for...I'm not even sure how to phrase the question."

The old man stirred, his voice low, a whisper, "I'm telling you that life is hard….it takes lots of diligence…but..."

Again Castle waited, but the old man was quiet again. "But what Gene?"

"Do you think it's an accident that you're at the Twelfth Precinct? At this precise moment in life?" He paused, "There is one thing I do know Rick...there's just no such thing as a coincidence."

XX

It was always hard to know what the traffic would be like on any given day in Manhattan. There were times when both the sidewalks and streets where so congested, no one moved. Some said the energy of New York was generated by the compression of so many into such a limited space. But for those who worked there, it was a constant source of irritation. On this day, it was going no where. The task had been a quick run by a neighbor of the victim for a few follow-up questions. Instead it ended up being traffic jam at the 1st and Houston parking lot, formerly a street. The culprit today, was a truck that had died, blocking traffic in all directions.

Again Detective Beckett found herself alone, in her cruiser with Richard Castle. She was trying to keep things cool, and the conversation light. But Madame Johns was still rummaging around in her head and Beckett was still trying to sort out her warning. Then her passenger was speaking.

"Hey, see that parking place, take it!"

"Why Castle?" Her voice dripping with irritation.

"We're a couple of blocks from Economy Candy, I want to pick up some Abba-Zaba's for Alexis."

Without speaking, she swung into the parking space. Eyes dancing as she looked at him, "Great idea! We're not going anywhere for a while in this traffic...and I love that place."

They both became kids in a candy store. They would hold up the many bit size confections and talk about when they first recalled eating it. One of Beckett's favorites was Oh Henry! Her mom told her that when she was young and out tricker-treating, one year she had refused all candy except, Oh Henry's.

Castle stopped and shoulder bumped her, "Did you really do that?"

She was still laughing at the idea, "I can't remember, but I should ask my Dad."

Each had a basket they were filling. While Beckett bought twice as much as she planned, Castle went crazy. His basket was filled with: Bit-O-honeys, 5th Avenues, Mary Jane's, 100 Grands, Chick-O-Sticks, Big Hunks, Charleston Chews, Clark Bars, U-No Bars and Paydays.

While Beckett was selecting candy from a different isle, Castle secretly hid a box of Tootsie Pops at the bottom of his basket. He would give them to her later, so she could be like Telly Savalas, who played Detective Kojak, on an old TV show. The actor had never appeared without a Tootsie Pop hanging from his mouth. Finally he hid five bags of O' Henry's. His plan was to hide them in her desk, her cruiser and the break room.

But he was not alone in the game. At the same time Beckett secreted away ten bubble gum cigars. For another day.

As Castle was scurrying up an aisle, adding more and more to his basket, Beckett just watched. She had not seen him so fascinated or gleeful. All she could do was laugh. When he looked up her, the look in his eyes was like an electrical jolt to her stomach. She wanted to close the space between them and wrap her arms around his neck. He seemed to sense something in her expression.

"Beckett, you OK!"

She let out another laugh, "You are such a kid."

"It's a candy store Beckett, I'm suppose to be kid. "

"Well we gotta go! You going to have that shipment delivered?"

"Cute, go check out, I'm right behind you."

They met outside, she shook her head, "Two grocery bags, of candy! Really Castle?"

"Be nice, there's something special in here for you!"

"That so?" Her eyes dancing in glee, "You'll like what I got you better!"

He laughed, "You're on."

XX

By the time they returned to the precinct the boys were mumbling about calling 911.

"Where have you guys been?" Esposito huffed.

"Got stuck in traffic, and made a detour."

Ryan raised his eye, "What kind of a detour."

Beckett offered a causal, "Nothing, just a pit stop."

"For three hours? You have to dig the pit?"

She now glared at him, "Is there a point to these questions Detective Ryan."

"Yeah we've been stuck here for hours doing paper work and you come back acting like the cat who ate the mouse."

Castle looked at Beckett, "You see any mice?"

She tried not to smile, "Nope, not me."

"Castle your an interloper and your covering for her,' pointing at Beckett. "She doesn't even like you." Espo laughed.

Before Castle could counter Beckett jumped in, "Yeah right! I don't like the guy who stepped in front of a drunk with a bat for me? In comparison to my team who gives me nothing but grief." She shook her head.

Castle smiled, "See! She likes me!"

It's was Ryan turn, "She doesn't like anybody!"

XX

A week later Castle stood in the break room shaking his head. He wasn't quite sure how it had happened. But what he did recall was Esposito and Ryan giving him grief about being a 'rich guy' and not living like the rest of the world. And his hasty response.

"Very little changes guys. Happiness is not hidden between hundred dollar bills. Old worries are replaced with new ones, and the day-to-day business of life...continues."

"Yeah, well you live in a palace, and we all live down in the squirrel cage."

"I don't live in a palace."

"OK, if that's so, we always do something for the 4th of July, how about we do it this year at Castle's flop house?"

"You're on! Melissa would be happy to meet you two."

"Now you are lying Castle." Esposito laughed out loud. "You're here for talking trash. And she's a public defender? We're probably on her personal hit list."

Ignoring the insult, "Who's we this party?"

"You know, we, the gang here at the Twelfth. It's no more than 15 or 20 people." Ryan's face wide with a smile, "You want out Castle?"

"Of course not. Let's do it."

The party to celebrate the nations birth, ended up with about 25 people, the majority from the Twelfth. The balance included his mom, Alexis, Melissa, two of her legal assistants and finally two of Castles three partners on the Beckett Building project.

The party had gone well but it had been a hard sell to Melissa. Not only was her fiancée working with the wrong team, he was now partying with them. He'd convinced her to invite a couple of her staff so they could meet the guys, particularly Esposito who was foot loose and on the prowl.

It was clear from Beckett's comments that Demming was also not excited about going to a party at the ride-a-longs house. But she too had prevailed, telling him the majority of attendees would be cops.

After the meal the group remained around the large table. Esposito wanted to get Castle's goat and asked where he had been attacked by the guy with the bat.

The answer was instantaneous, "34th & Lexington." But with the answer, the room had gone silent. Tom Demming stared at Castle. Melissa Marrone at Beckett. For without even glancing at one another they had both responded in perfect sync. The silence was finally broken by Lanie who cheerfully offered, "They do that!"

Castled studied the grim face on his fiancée and stood. Taking on the part of a happy host he asked, "Who would like another Guinness? Or maybe some wine?" Moving towards the kitchen as he spoke. He heard the chatter start again and exhaled a breath of relief.

He stood at the refrigerator, leaning his head in and letting the cool air waft against his face. He startled when he felt a hand cover his own on the door handle. Stepping back, he stared into the warm green eyes of Kate Beckett.

"Sorry Castle!" She glanced down at the floor for a moment and then her head came back, eyes now determined, "Tom and I would like a Guinness."

He handed her the two bottles and pointed at the opener on the counter.

XX

The two woman sat and just took in the quiet. The last guest had left, Castle and Melissa had gone into the office and closed the door.

Alexis had turned and was looking at the same door. She could hear only muffed voices from the other side. "Grams, can I ask you something?"

Martha Rogers responded to her her granddaughter by turning and giving her her full attention. "Of course you can, but," holding up her hand, "The answer is yes."

Alexis laughed, "I haven't asked anything yet."

"Some things...us girls just know." Smiling broadly. "And judging by the look, or should I say looks on your face throughout our little shindig today, the answer is, a definite yes."

"You really think so?"

"Think is far to weak a word my dear. People think about the weather, and change their minds. So, I don't think I'm right, I know I am."

"Oh Grams." The younger looked up at the ceiling and shook her head, "This is going to be ugly."

"Indeed it will, but," She stopped for another dramatic pause, "I fear the train has left the station, and will not be returning."

"You know...I like her?"

"Which her?"

"Actually, both of them." Sadness now coloring the young girl's expression.

"I know, I do too."

"Dad has been happy with Melissa and when he's happy, I'm happy." She stopped for a second, a thought snagging her attention, "Do you think he knows?"

"Of course not!" Wagging her finger at her granddaughter, "Learn this early my dear, men are seldom the sharpest tool in the box."

"Grams! A feminist at heart?"

"But of course, how do you think I've survived all these years?"

"Are you going to tell dad about his...his problem?"

"And spoil the fun?"

"I thought you agreed it would be ugly?"

"Oh it won't be pleasant, and I was jesting about fun." Her face became serious, "I too want your dad to be happy, and not just for a few months or a few years. I want him to be happy for a long time and that can only happen with the right person. As much as I like Melissa, I've never felt she was the one. I'm sorry to say that because it means my son will have to suffer before he's truly happy."

"But you can't tell him?"

"You or I can only observe. Ultimately he has figure this out."

"I thought so." She looked around the room, evidence of the now ended party everywhere. "Do you think Detective Beckett knows?"

"I do. She sparkles when she looks at your Dad, but, only him."

"I thought so too. I'm sticking with it being ugly."

"You're probably right."

XX

When she arrived at the precinct Captain Montgomery called her in.

"Detective please sit," pointing at the chair.

"What's up sir?"

"Well I have some...news." He paused, "I appreciate your willingness to allow the Mayor's friend to follow your team."

"I can put up with anything for awhile Sir." Smiling with an expression of pain.

"We're going to have to test your meaning of, for awhile."

She leaned forward, "I don't understand."

"Mr. Castle has asked to remain on board, indefinitely."

Acting shocked. "What? Why? Hasn't he already done his time?"

"It seems he's decided..." Her boss let the words trail away.

"Decided what sir?"

The Captain swiveled in his chair toward the window, hands steepled. As if her question had been answered, he moved on. "The Mayor is happy with the interest Mr. Castle has shown in the PD, and particularly with this homicide department. If the Mayor is happy, the people at 1PP are happy. You get my point." It was not a question.

"I'm still confused..."

"Detective I'll let Mr. Castle explain why he wants to be here and, why he's been given the Mayor's blessing."

"Sir, I..." but her bosses phone rang, he glanced at the screen.

He muttered, "Need to take this, please close the door on the way out." And pulled the phone off the cradle.

She stood outside his office for just a beat, trying to keep the smile from showing on her face. She never expected this, but was pleased. It certainly worked for her. Her task was to never let Castle know.

XX

Two hours later Castle arrived at the precinct. She saw him when the doors opened, although she wasn't looking.

"Detective, how are you today?"

She noticed he didn't have coffee today and greeted him with a you-tell-me tone, "Well not as good as you."

"What does that mean?" His eyebrows rising.

"Let me buy you a cup of our crap coffee." She pointed at the break room and headed in that direction.

Castle followed thinking, this was going to be an ear full. He had a pretty good idea she had gotten the word of his continued work at the Twelfth. He wasn't sure how she would react. Her signals confused him. Fortunately he had the Mayor, and her Captain on his side. She would no doubt complain but have to put up with him. Still he needed her cooperation, not resistance. He wanted to continue picking her brain and hang his fictional character around this real, live, Nikki. He had decided he'd tell her the truth, from the get-go. When he walked into the break room she was already pouring the sludge. She turned and sat two cups on the counter and slid one in his direction. She then leaned back against the counter's edge and put her hands on her hips, "So tell me, how did you pull off this thing with the Mayor?"

He was taken back by the intensity of her look. "I...I explained that...I had learned a lot here and...thought there was a lot was more to discovered."

She pushed off the counter and took a step closer, "Let me guess, you want to become a cop?"

"No! No!" Shaking his head profusely, "I just want to follow your team some more."

"To what end Castle?"

With dancing eyes he fired back, "Research!"

"Research for what?"

"Ah...just research."

"No, that's not going to do. Research for what?"

"A couple of things."

"Why is it so hard for you to be honest with me?"

"It's not, I...I'm not sure you really...want to know." He wondered what part of telling her from the get-go this was.

"Know what Castle? I'm a cop, not a mind reader."

"OK, its...it's for a book about a homicide detective."

"And that was hard to say? But ...what makes me think, there's more?"

"Well, sorta." A smile pushed aside his concern, "You're gonna love her."

"She shook her head, "Her? I doubt it!"

XX

Later that evening Beckett was thinking about the changes to come with Castle's decision to stay on. It made her smile again. But then a cloud swept across her mind and it scared her. It drove her back to her high school days where she'd seen something in herself. Something she didn't like it. She had thought of it as the "thrill of the steal." It brought a frown to face at the very recollection.

She recalled a rival at her high school who bugged her. Beckett decided that snide remarks wouldn't do any good. So she turned her attention to the rival's boyfriend. After she won his affections, and crushed the other girl, she was became bored with the young man and ended it. One of her friends asked her what short-lived romance was about. The young Beckett replied, "Catch & Release, you know C&R." Telling her friend, "There are lots of fish in the sea."

The practice continued into college where men were clearly attracted to her. She could not resist the temptation, to repeat the "Catch & Release" game, until she set her sights on a nerdy guy. She was able to do 'the catch,' but then he quickly became bored with Beckett and told her so. That was her last C&R for her. She had discovered it was too unpleasant to be on the other end of her game.

Now she struggled with those memories from her juvenile game. The playing with people's hearts and wondered if she had truly changed. She and Marrone had worked against one another, Castle was Marrone's fiancée and they were zeroing in on wedding plans. So Beckett questioned her own motives, but certain she did not want to play the old game. But her inner urge to stop the relationship and marriage felt oddly familiar and she didn't fully trust herself.

"What are frowning for Kate?" Demming asked as he set a magazine down he had been reading.

"Oh, nothing, just a long day." She hated to lie, but what was troubling her needed to be left unsaid. Because in the end, it said volumes about her and Demming and she hoped they would not have another discussion about the writer. She was wrong.

"You still have the stalker with you." His tone incredulous.

"He's not a stalker...he's someone in political time-out, thanks to our Mayor." She immediately thought of the commitment Demming wanted from her. To move on, settle in and settle down. So talk about the 'writer or stalker' was subtext for 'why are you spending your days with another guy and won't take the next step with me.' When she didn't say more she drifted to the crazy candy store run. Castle was no stalker, but he could sure be crazy. She was pulled back to the room when Demming cleared his throat.

"Hey where'd you go?"

"I'm sorry Tom...just a long day." Before either could speak her phone vibrated on the coffee table. She saw the caller ID.

 _Awake?_

As she looked at the phone thinking, bad timing, she also felt something jump in her chest, "It's just Castle."

He stood and shook his head, his face coloring, "Great, still stalking I see." He walked to the kitchen.

She typed, _Yeah_.

 _Time for a question?_

She struck the keys again, _Sure._

She waited for a minute before he responded. Tom returned, "What does he want?"

"Don't know, he had a question, I suppose he's writing." The phone shook.

 _What are the most common mistakes with chain of custody from the crime scene to the lab?_

"What's the question?" Demming asked with a huff.

"He wants to know about chain of custody errors from a crime scene to the lab."

She turned to her phone, and typed, _What?_

Her screen immediately lit up, _I'm writing, this has to be real._

She typed her response, _Call me_.

"You done with him?" His voice clear with its disdain over the interruption.

"No he's calling."

"Great! I'll be in the bedroom."

As he flopped onto the bed, he heard her phone ring and then her answer. What bothered him most was the way she responded to the jerk. He heard a tone in her voice, that he'd never heard when he called. Even though all she said was "Hey, Castle." There was just to much warmth, too much something. He got up and closed the door.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**The Interview**

 **Chapter 11**

He studied the glass of wine while running his fingers around the rim. He had postponed this task as long as could. He had to tell her. He felt he was doing the right thing, but, he knew she would not like his decisions. He'd delayed thinking extra time would help, in fact it had only made things worse. Now both shoes would be dropping at the same time and it would not be pleasant.

He looked at her as she studied a page from the stack of paper folders on her lap. It was time. "Mel do you have a few minutes?"

She didn't answer right away, but then put down the paper and her glasses and looked up, "Sure, what's up?"

"I wanted to tell you about some meetings I've had with Black Pawn recently." He paused, like he'd lost his trend of thought. "As you know they've been, well...concerned about my lack of productivity."

"They have to know that creating a new story and new characters takes some time." She shook her head, "It's not like you haven't made them a ton of money."

"Yesterday's book, and success are just that, yesterdays."

"Did you tell them you were writing?"

"I did, and I bounced a number of ideas off them and...they were, less than enthusiastic about most of proposals."

"They didn't like anything?"

"No, but they only ended up liking one thing."

"The public defender and cop story?"

"No."

"Then what was the idea they liked?"

He had thought about the answer to her questions. Knew it was coming. He agreed with Black Pawn that the final story was the best idea. But would she understand? He wondered if it was the best, because he'd pitched the final story harder then everything else. So how to answer? A detective and a writer? No! That wouldn't do. It was more than that since it would involve the whole precinct, not just a team. And the male counter-part would not just be a writer, he was going to be a journalist with a special connection to the detective. The tension in his early idea would have come between law enforcement and lawyers. They more he thought about it, the weaker it seemed to him. Instead he was changing to a more assailable protagonist, the press.

She interrupted his thoughts, "Rick what's the story about?"

"Generally, the police versus the press."

She was quiet for a minute, clearly not happy that the idea of public defender verses cops wasn't going to happen. He waited for her to process the idea.

"Do you have more? That wouldn't be enough for Gina would it?"

"Yes and no. She never likes anything at first. But my story is centered around what I've seen at the Twelfth. But the twist is the homicide unit in conflict by the presence of a journalist, sorta."

She stood and shook her head, "What does that mean?"

"As I worked on story lines, nothing came together." He paused and ran his hand thru his hair, "Cops and lawyers are really two sides of the same coin. They're both in the system. They both work towards crime prevention." She started to speak, but he pressed on. "Even in your job, when you go up against the DA, you're not saying there's no value in the law. You're saying it has be fair. The State has to meet their burden."

"So what's that have to do with a journalist?"

"I think...for cops, even lawyers, in most cases the press is a natural enemy. So if I create a relationship between the press and a homicide unit, it's like water and oil...and the fur's going to fly."

She remained quiet for a few minutes. He was trying to tell it all, but could not bring himself to spell out the unspoken dynamic of a man and a woman.

"I don't get the water and oil analogy. Cops use the press, and the press use cops. What's compelling about that idea?"

"The cop will be romantically involved with the journalist."

Her eyes came up and locked on his. "Which one is the woman?"

After a pause, longer than he intended, "The cop." He was looking down when he spoke and did not see the folder of papers leave her hand. The next thing he knew, something struck him in the chest and then papers were flying everywhere. He let out a groan.

She growled at him, "Seriously, you're writing about _her_?"

XX

"Why?" Her tone was clipped and without a trace of patience, she'd had it.

"It would be for research." Holding his hands out, palms up.

"What could lunch possibly have to do with research?" She turned placing her hands on her hips.

"Really? There are times you surprise me." Shaking his head, as he launched in, "It's about the back story, hinting to the readers there's more. You know that the writer is holding back."

She rolled her eyes, "No! Do hear me Castle? No! For the last time you are not coming with me."

He watched as the elevator doors closed and she gave a final shake of her head to him, sealing the no. He had failed.

XX

They were both busy, but like many other families they worked at taking the time to be with each other. The goal was that on either Tuesday, or Saturday, they'd meet for lunch, catch-up and check in on one another. Of course there were always the phone calls, since he didn't like texts, but sitting face-to- face was the best. She looked forward to these few minutes each week with her dad.

As she rounded the corner and headed towards the door she glanced at their table, her dad sat in his usual spot, reading something. He was early and just as she was closing the last twenty feet to the front door, her phone rang. Her stomach clinched, she did not want to miss another lunch. She looked at the screen and shook her head. Coming to a stop she barked out, "What!"

"You don't have to be cranky Detective."

"I'm not cranky! Can you not leave me alone for just an hour?" Working hard to restrain a laugh. The truth was she didn't want him to leave her alone, at all. She was always pleased when his face lit up her screen.

"Well you're certainly doing a good imitation of cranky." This time she could not restrain the laughter. "Now that sounds better."

"Castle! Do you need something?" The impatience back.

"I have a confession..."

"Pray tell?"

"I followed you." She spun on her heels at the ridiculousness of it all. She scanned the crowd, laughing the whole time.

"Really? You've hid yourself well."

"I have another confession...I lied."

"Have I told you lately that you're a piece of..."

"Detective, careful...are you sure I can't..."

"Castle, I'm ending this call, see you in an hour or so." She tapped the screen.

It made him ache to just watch her. Most days he got by with keeping the old memories at bay, but other days, Johanna Beckett perched herself at every corner of his life. On those days, even after all the years, he could feel the surge of tears pushing at his eyes. As he watched his daughter laugh, spin and banter on the phone, he was again overwhelmed with memories of his loving wife. He missed her so.

She was at the table in an instant, "Hey Dad!"

He stood up, hugged her and pecked her on the forehead, "Hey Katie, you look good."

She looked down at her beige pants, "Dad there's a coffee stain on my pants."

He dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand, " _You_ , look good. You look happy Katie, and that does my heart wonders." She was confused by the comment but said nothing. He went on, "I was watching you on the phone, it reminded me so much of your mom, so full of life." His voice stopped, this time his eyes pooled with moisture, "But even more than that, your full of love." He wiped at eyes, "The most important thing in life."

Beckett looked down at the table. She such a mess, not in love, his voice interrupted her thought.

"As I watched you talk, and then turn and scan the crowd, it reminded me of how your mom would look for me, and then find me. Her whole face would light up..." He looked away, struck again by a second wave of the old emotion, then in a raspy voice, "I miss her so much..."

She reached across the table and covered her fathers hand, "I know Dad, I know."

Beckett senior straightened up, and though his eyes glistened, asked, "So how is Tom?"

It was now his daughters turn to look away. She said nothing, but stared at a passer-by. When she didn't answer, he waited, letting time extract the answer. He could see the color start to flush her face.

"It wasn't Tom." Now studying her hands.

"Well, let me guess. It was your writer?"

Again she sat silently but knew her dad could always wait her out. "Yeah it was Castle."

"Katie, is there something you need to tell me?"

"Like what?"

"You know what."

"Dad," her voice hitched for a second, and then came out in only a whisper, "I'm so screwed up. Since the day I met him, it's been nothing but chaos."

"Tell me about it my love."

XX

Castle had gotten up early to help Melissa with the last minute things she needed for her week away. A conference up-state, which he had forgotten about, but it was important to her and he wanted to help in anyway he could. She reminded him the days would be long, 12 -14 hours, so she could probably only text, if she had a few moments. She'd call if she had time but if it was like last year, she'd barely have time to sleep. He assured her he'd be OK.

After the car service came to pick her up, he laid on the sofa for a few minutes, thinking he needed more sleep, he was dragging. After 20 minutes, he decided he needed to get going, no matter how tired he was. He showered, had a light breakfast and headed for the Twelfth.

She had been with him enough to know something was off. Beckett thought he was moving very slow when he came in with her coffee. To her he looked flushed and proved to be unusually quiet. Later in the morning when the call came in, without exchange, they headed for the cruiser.

They had only traveled a few blocks when she noticed he was slumped against the passenger door, his head resting against the window. His eyes were not shut, but he squinted like he was in pain.

"Castle, you OK?"

"Yeah, just have...a headache."

"You've been pretty quiet today."

He opened his eyes wider and looked at her, "Just off a bit today."

"Your forehead is beaded with sweat, you might have a fever." Without hesitating she reached across and put the back of her hand against his face. He groaned. "Castle you're on fire. We need to get you home. Will Alexis or Melissa be there?"

"No, Mel's out of town this week...back next Saturday."

"What about Alexis?"

"With her Mom...away too." His eyes remaining closed.

She thought for a minute, "OK, we'll take care of it."

"Of what?"

"Of you Castle."

"Beckett just take me home, I'll be fine."

"Yeah right. I'll take you home."

At the crime scene he told her he'd stay in the car. Beckett set out to talk with the uniforms. She then found the other team of detectives and finally called Captain Montgomery. After some discussion it was decided that the case fell within the jurisdiction of the Eighteenth. The shooting had taken place in their district. The Vic had fled and collapsed on the boundary between the two, it was a no brain-er, the case was theirs.

When she returned to the cruiser, he was asleep. She said nothing, but started the vehicle and headed out. He never woke up during the drive across town.

When the car stopped, she saw him stir and straighten up some. With eyes still shut he released the seat belt and sat all the way up. He took a deep breath and was about to reach for the handle, when he noticed where they were. "This is not my loft."

"I said I'd take you home," she smiled weakly, "This is home. Well...my home."

"Beckett why are we here?"

"Because you're coming up and we'll see if we can break your fever."

"What about the call? Aren't Ryan and Esposito waiting for you?" Obviously forgetting they'd been to the scene. He groaned slightly, "Really, I can take care of myself if you'll just get me home."

She ignored his question, "Castle I'm not sure the two of us can even get you to my elevator, then into my apartment and onto the sofa."

Before he could speak, she was out the door. He felt his door open, he started to tilt out when Beckett stepped off the curb and turned her hip against his shoulder to steady him, "Whoa Castle, let's go slow."

Five minutes later she was struggling with opening her front door, and simultaneously holding him up. "Castle, grab the door frame, I can't keep both of us up."

He straightened, taking some weight off her and held onto the frame and her shoulder. She swung the door open and wrapped her arm around his waist, then led him into her apartment. She directed him to the sofa, and let him down with help. He croaked, "Thank you."

After finding a pillow she made him comfortable. He said nothing, except for an occasional groan. She pulled off his shoes, then headed to her bathroom to grab a cold wash cloth and some aspirin.

"Castle...Castle," his eyes opened half way, "I need you to take this aspirin and let me put this cloth on your head. He complied and within two minutes he was asleep.

Beckett went to her bedroom, closed the door and dialed, "Hey Lanie."

"Hey whats up? You left the scene awful fast, even if it was a bust."

"I just got home, I brought Castle with me..."

"You what? Does Demming know?"

"Stop Lanie," her tone serious, "Castle is as sick as a dog, no one's at his place, so I brought him here."

"OK." Stretching the word to match her concern, combined with are-you-completely-crazy tone.

Beckett ignored it all, "I'd guess it's the flu. Fever, headache...he says he aches everywhere."

"Sounds like it."

"Any ideas?"

"The usual. Rest, fluids, aspirin and maybe a cool bath if he gets too hot." She paused for a moment, "The aspirin will keep the fever from going to high, but the fever helps fight the bug. So don't over do it."

"I can't get him in and out of my tub, he practically crushed me just helping from my car to the sofa."

"Yeah, he's a big guy. You need help?"

"I think I'm OK. But if I have a problem, I'll let you know."

"What he really needs is rest and fluids. Just keep an eye on him."

"Thanks Lanie, I'll be in touch."

Lanie sat in silence for a few minutes after the call. Finally she spoke to the ceiling, "The girl's insane."

XX

At 10:00 that evening Castle awoke. His head pounding. Looking around, he wasn't even sure where he was, but then vaguely remembered Beckett helping him and bringing him to her place. He felt horrible, but needed the restroom and needed to wash his face. There was a hallway with three doors. One door was slightly ajar with a light on. He guessed she'd left the light on for him. As he started for the light he realized how dizzy he was and reached for the wall to steady himself.

After washing his face he looked at himself in the mirror, and groaned. He looked like death. But despite how bad he felt, he took a moment to study the room. It struck him that he was standing in Detective Beckett's bathroom. It had her things set about, it was her. He had honestly never considered her world, her home or her life away from work. It simply had not crossed his mind, and now, he embarrassed. He knew he stood in this spot because of her kindness. But he had been distracted by all things, except her. For a next few minutes he sat on the edge of the tub, finding an unexplainable comfort in the room.

Afterwords he made his way back to her sofa, and sat in the dark. Letting his eyes focus he glanced around, but was hit again by a wave of dizziness. He closed his eyes and laid his head back.

He thought he heard the floor creak, and then she spoke, "Castle, we need to feed you something."

He opened his eyes and saw her standing over him. She had on pj's and robe. He wanted to smile at the sight, was too whipped, "I'm not hungry."

"Let me fix you some soup and give you some more aspirin," This time laying her hand on his forehead. "You're still real warm. How's the head?"

"Aching...spinning."

Her heard her softly say, "Be right back."

He laid back his head and rested. After only a second, or so it seemed, he felt her hand on his shoulder, "Castle, can you sit up straighter and drink this soup." He opened his eyes and took the cup from her hand, "I didn't make it too hot."

He nodded and slid his hips back on the sofa, "Sure."

When the soup was down, she handed two aspirin and a bottle of water. He offered a weak smile, "Beckett, you don't have to nurse me like this. You can just take me home."

"Not gonna happen Castle, now lay back down." He obeyed without protest.

She'd struggle sleeping and found herself straining to hear. He had tossed and turned, mumbling words she could not understand. At first her impulse was to let him have the bed and she would take the sofa, but decided that was fraught with problems. She knew Tom would not be dropping in. He had started visiting his parents every other weekend and this was out of town. His dad was improving, but still his mom appreciated the company. Regardless, Castle in her bed would not do. If anyone came by, other than Lanie, it would be hard to explain a sick writer on the sofa. Impossible to explain one in her bed.

After the soup and pain meds he was out again. She sat on the coffee table for awhile watching him sleep. Then decided on an over-stuffed chair which she moved next to the sofa. She was almost asleep when he called out, 'Melissa...Mel.' She took a damp wash cloth and laid it on his forehead. He startled, his eyes wide open, "Beckett?" The a long pause, "Where am I?"

"Castle you're at my place."

He looked confused and then offered, "Yeah, I forgot...thanks for the soup. Did I fall asleep?"

"Couple of hours ago." She turned the washcloth. He reached up and covered her hand with his.

"Beckett, I owe you."

"Big time Castle, big time." She let out a small laugh.

He felt so poorly that he missed it as humor and mumbled, "Really Beckett, just take me home, I..."

She moved from the chair and knelt beside the sofa, "Castle I was just teasing." Turning the cloth yet again, "You're in no shape to go anywhere, except back to sleep."

"K" Closing his eyes.

With him back to sleep, she returned to her vigil. From time to time he would call out 'Melissa' and she would apply the cooling cloth to his head. It struck her that she did not like his fiancee's name spoken into the dark of her home. But there was a much stronger emotion present, and this one frightened her to her core.

It had now been several months since he had begun to follow her team, well mostly her. He worked with the team, but he had become her partner. She was teased at work about a detective with a civilian partner. Such an arrangement was unheard of, but she decided she didn't care. Then he got the extension to stay and do 'research.' While she always feigned annoyance, she was happier at how things had turned out.

He had proved to be an asset to her team, but for her it was much more. At times it felt like a stake in her heart, but mostly she just wanted him around. From early on, even before his eye had healed from the bat incident, something had shifted in her. She smiled to herself at the word, 'shifted,' it was an understatement. It was more like the big earthquake in California. With the San Andreas Fault shifting five feet one way or another. Such an event would eradicate the Golden State everyone knew. So too, Castle had banished the Kate Beckett she knew to a strange new world, by his mere presence.

It was dark, his breathing had calmed some. She was happy to have him here. Happy to give this most unusual attention to him. She seemed to always come back to the same place, a truth that she doubted she could keep for long. With him, for the first time in years, she did not feel alone.

"Melissa, help me, Mel...please." He shot upright and looked around the room.

Beckett reached out and put her hand on his shoulder, "Castle, it's OK, lay back down. Everything is OK."

He took a deep breath and she could see his shoulders sag. He remained sitting but laid his head against the back of the sofa.

"I'll be right back." She stood and moved into the kitchen. She returned moments later and handed him a fresh washcloth and sat a glass on the table.

"Castle, wash you face. You've been sweating and this cool cloth will feel good on your skin." He did so without hesitation.

"This is Gatorade," handing him the glass, "It should help while you battle this fever."

After he laid back down, he spoke, "Beckett, you need to sleep, not watch over me."

"You always ask me if we're partners, I don't answer do I?"

"No, you don't."

"Tonight is your answer, its what partners do."

He let out a laugh, "You're telling me this because you think I'm dying?"

"From the flu," She let out a small laugh,"Give me a break!"

"OK...to cheer me up."

"No, I'm not. You're my partner, plain and simple."

"If I didn't feel so terrible, I'd stand up and hug you."

"Castle, partners do not hug."

"This one does."

Once he returned to sleep, she fell asleep in the chair, but laid her head on the sofa arm. When she awoke the room was bright with sunlight. As she tried to move, she found that Castle had taken her hand and held it to his chest. She could not help but smile.

XX

He slid into his chair, after depositing her coffee and sweet roll on the desk, smiling, "Good morning detective."

"Castle," Now she smiled, like she was surprised he was there, "I see you're back in the land of the living."'

His smile vanished and he turned serious, "Thanks to you." He paused and looked at this hands for a second, "I'm embarrassed you had to see me like that, but I'm grateful...beyond words."

Trying to make it light she shot back, "A writer without words!" Followed by a small laugh. "Really Castle stop! I was happy to help."

"You should be a nurse instead of a back-breaking detective. I told Alexis how you sat by me, she is in _awe_ of you."

With her voice low, "Castle hush! You could jeopardize my cop persona if you're not careful."

"Well that makes me feel better."

"Jeopardizing my persona?"

"No! That I didn't carry out my original plan to show my appreciation."

"Right!" Stretching out the word, "And what pray was that?"

"I was going to ask to stand up, and then give you a hug."

Her jaw dropped open, for two reasons. "You know I could shoot you for that kinda crap!" But the idea that he wanted to hug her, well that worked for her.

He let out a laugh, "One of the reasons I decided against it."

She just put down her head and shook it, "Work to do Castle, why don't you check your emails." He grunted and she stared at the paper before her, which she could not even read. She returned to the second reason, that he wanted to hug her. She wanted his arms around her. When she awoke early Saturday morning with him clutching her hand, she thought her heart would burst. She had leaned over and kissed the top of his head. But what she missed the most was when he returned to the loft. He took with him the sense of wholeness, that sense of being 'home', when he was near. She has taken care of him, not because he was sick, but because she really cared for him. Which meant she was in trouble on so many levels.

She felt a cloud cover her thoughts. She knew she had to come clean with Tom. She knew she could not offer Tom what he wanted or deserved. In a twist of fate, she was smitten by a man who was engaged to another woman. It looked like she would soon be alone, and Castle would soon be married. She let out a soft groan.

But he was here with her now. She would settle for that today.

XX

Castle would be the first to admit that working at the Twelfth had brought a number of changes to his life. The first was simple. He had for some reason, taken a great deal of pleasure in buying Beckett coffee each day, with a sweet roll as a chaser. Maybe it was the unabashed sense of gratitude he felt from her, or maybe it just her warm smile. He wasn't sure which, but he knew he liked it.

The second change was more subtle. It just seemed to happened. Castle found himself more and more dependent on his late night conversations on the roof. It was a means of venting over the turbulent circumstances he found himself living in. Life was imitating art and Gene was the sage he turned to for solace.

The old man had asked about the writing process.

Castle was quiet for few beats, "Most of the time, when I write, the words just flow out. It's as though I'm standing, like a third person at the scene, observing and writing it down. I find myself awake in the middle of the night hearing conversations between the characters. It can be a simply exchange or something deeper, heart felt and...I can't turn it off. The ideas pop into my head day and night. And then I hear something on the news. A friend has died, or gets a divorce. I sense a severing of a connection, one I was nearly unaware of, and then everything stops. The disturbing news turns off my teeming brain, and I can't write."

"How often does this happen?"

"More often than I like. But it tells me, or it whispers to me, that I've been ignoring things. I've dried up for a reason. Maybe I ignored some gnawing truth...that I just don't know about myself...and that's pretty scary."

The man puffed and then faced Castle, "Why is that?"

He ran his hands through his hair, like it would clear his mind, "Because if it's not just me that's missing it. I write to convey some fundamental truth. If I missed it, or don't explain, it means I've failed as a writer. If I can't figure it out...and pass something, then my readers may miss it to."

The old man barked a laugh, "You know... you're moving from pop culture to the generations of thinkers with those kind of ideas."

Castle shook his head, "Small comfort to be included in the generations of the confused."

"I disagree, I suggest you take comfort at your arrival. Only the foolish think they understand themselves. Knowing, that you _do not_ know, is a good beginning. You've read, Shakespeare, Emerson, Carlyle, Goethe, Ecclesiastes and on and on. Castle it means you have to sit down, turn off the cruise control and look at where you are, and where you're going. But..."

"But what Gene?"

"But, the real question is, what's dredging up all this deep self-reflection? Or...maybe whom?"

Castle said nothing for a few moments, "Not sure...something is unraveling in me. It feels like it might be my heart. It seems like I have no clue...and it scares me."

XX

Castle was weary and not up for an argument. But the air at the loft had an uncharacteristic chill as he sat to eat dinner with Melissa.

It had been weeks since he complained about Beckett jumping down his throat over the number of carats appropriate for a wedding ring. He thought of Melissa's lack of interest in the conversation, and how she snapped, "It was none of Beckett's business."

To add to the strain of the evening, it had also been a few days since he'd revealed his story line to her. And there was no question that she was not pleased.

But now he was haunted by another event. Several days after their run to the candy store Beckett had showed up with one of the bubble gum cigar rings. She had taken care to expand the ring and added some clear polish to make it stronger. Castle walked in to the precinct with their coffee and after he sat, she spoke.

"Castle, let me see your left hand." Her eyes dancing.

Without protest he extended his hand to her, she took it and slid the wrapper onto his ring finger and offered, "With this ring, I thee wed."

He was momentarily shocked as he stared at the paper band. When he looked up, her eyes bored into to his. She said nothing and did not release his hand. Finally after several seconds, she leaned forward and she smiled, "Castle, all you need is love."

It was then her turn to be surprised. He stood, his eyes reflecting the shock. He started to speak, but nothing came out. Finally in a low voice he sputtered, "Thank you Kate." He paused again, and added, "I need to go to the Mens room." And was gone.

She sat quietly, stunned by his use of her first name. Her attempted humor has gone flat and, it felt like something entirely different had taken place. She wondered if it was humor at all, or if she wasn't just her pushing at their relationship and trying to pull him to herself.

After washing his face, Castle stood before the mirror in the restroom. He found that his breathing was much faster than normal. Beckett had pulled a fast one, and sent him reeling. He had taken the paper ring off, to keep it from getting wet. He studied the band, which now sat on the small shelf under the mirror. He was surprised at the affection he felt for it. He was a rich man by almost all standards. But the object of his affection, was a simple wrapper off a candy store bubble gum cigar. But it had been given to him by the emerald eyed beauty who was making his entire world shake, by simply quoting the Beatles. He did need love. But he was beginning to question whether or not he had been looking in all the wrong places.

"Rick!" He was pulled back to the dinner table by Melissa's tone. "What is wrong you with you?"

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A/N - Hope you enjoy the chapter. The mistakes are my own. Thanks for your many reviews, favorites and followings.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N - Thanks for reading. The mistakes are mine for this chapter. Also thanks so much for your many reviews and comments. I'm honored that you take the time.

* * *

 **The Interview**

 **Chapter 12**

For some reason, she felt the universe had turned against her. She knew she sounded like him with his Castle-ism, spinning his philosophies at her. The elevator had refused to stop at the third floor, so she was getting using the stairs. But Castle didn't like stairs. He took a minimalist approach to exercise and the value of sweating.

They had been arguing about something and it had devolved into their typical banter. But things had changed for her. She was growing more and more concerned about the his upcoming wedding. For her it created a sense of panic.

The exchange had gotten personal and he was teasing her, but this time it hurt and she reacted with an angry retort. He didn't seem to notice, but then she wondered. There was a strange look in his eyes, but it was gone in the next beat.

"Castle, we've got some leads to follow." She stood and was at the elevator, waiting, when he caught up.

"I don't think it likes you Beckett, we might need to take the stairs."

"Really, you on the stairs?" She winked at him.

Without a word she turned for the stairwell door. He was on her heels, listening to the hard clatter of her shoes. But following too closely. She stopped at the first landing, and he ran into her, grabbing at her sleeve and pulling her against himself to keep from knocking her down. He teased, "If you want me Beckett, just say so." Giving her his best cheesy smile.

The line of banter caught her off guard, but just for a second. Of course she wanted him. But he was engaged and seemingly blind to her. The reasonable Beckett said she should just let it go. But that Beckett wasn't here, at least not at this precise moment. He wasn't married, until he said, 'I do'. She heard her own words and they surprised even her, "Don't think, you could take the truth Castle." Her face blank and without expression.

"What does that mean?' He teased, volleying back at her.

"I don't think you're really up for it." Again her features remained flat revealing nothing, but she guessed her pulse had doubled.

Laughing again, "Sure I am...I'm a big boy."

Beckett began to lose her resolve, this was stupid she thought to herself, and turned away from him. As she did, he held onto her arm, the tease was out of his voice, "Detective Beckett, are you telling me, you want me?"

She turned and faced him, "I do." She started to turn again, but he still did not let go.

"I'm engaged!" Now looking confused, "Are you telling me you're looking for... a fling?" But before she could speak he added, "I would never do that to Melissa."

Beckett stood her ground and stared back, intent and without mirth, "I don't want a fling Castle!" Her words hard and staccato like. She paused and let the confusion wash over him, allowing time for his eyes to reflect the unsteady ground he was on. "I want you...and I want you forever." She leaned forward and kissed his neck. She paused for just a second and moved to his cheek, barely brushing her lips against the corner of his mouth. Finally she softly bit his lower lip and whispered, "Forever, Castle."

He could not move.

He was stuck. Frozen in place. For the next few moments he tried to process her words. No one, had ever spoken to him like that. It felt as if his feet were glued to the ground. He heard her slip past him, her shoes clacking again on the stairs as she moved down. He felt the side of his face tingling from her kiss, his lip burned from the bite, and then the urgent ache in his stomach.

Finally, he came to life. Spun on his heels and called out her name, but she was already exiting the stairwell. He gave chase and burst out the doors just in time to see her slide into the drivers side of her cruiser. He walked over and opened the passenger door and slid in without a sound. She said nothing, but kept her eyes forward.

He looked at her and his insides flipped, again. In a single movement over and reached up with both hands and cradled her face. Her eyes glistened, a bright beautiful green. He covered her mouth with his own and knew he never wanted to stop. To him, she was like water to a dying man. He just wanted to drink her in.

When they broke apart, her hands were around his neck. In a husky voice she sputtered, "Castle."

He had moved from her lips to her neck, feeling he could not let go. Then rested his head against her shoulder, taking in her scent. He let out a sigh and pulled her hand to his lips, and kissed it over and over, "Damn you Beckett, damn you." All the while continuing to cling to her.

XX

Over the next few weeks, they did not speak of the encounter. To an outsider, they looked like two normal people. They interacted, laughed and even teased. But then the usual exchanges would be overshadowed by something unseen.

"Espo," His partner looked up from his desk, "Is it me? Or is something off with Beckett?"

"Dunno." Turning back to his work.

"You're a lying sack." Bouncing a crumpled page off Esposito's shoulder.

"What?" Swatting at the air like he was hitting a fly.

"You're lying! You know she's off... never seen her act this way."

"What way?" Sounding irritated.

"Weird man, just...weird."

X

Alexis Castle found her father sitting with his computer on his lap, staring into nothing.

"Hey Dad! Looks like you're not exactly burning up that keyboard there?"

"Yeah Pumpkin, I was just thinking."

She plopped down on the office sofa and huffed, "Are you trying to scare me Dad?"

"And why would I scare you?"

"You've been, you know..."

"No. I don't know. What have I been?"

"Just...kinda out of it."

"I've had a lot of things on my mind and...I'm worried about taking this big step with Mel."

"What worries you?"

He placed the laptop on his desk and moved over to the sofa to sit by her. "I guess just the step. After you're Mom and Gina...well lets just say I'm, real trigger shy."

"Can I tell you something Dad?" Her voice low and tentative.

"When do you ever have to _ask_ to talk to me?"

"I...I don't want to interfere with your...I guess life...your choices."

He sat up, slid to the edge of the sofa so he could turn and face her, "What are you talking about Alexis?"

She did not look directly at him, but instead focused on the bookshelf across from them. Finally she turned, her eyes wide, "Do you know the last time I saw you happy? Really happy."

"Well I was going to say, I'm always happy...but you tell me, when?"

"At the Fourth of July party."

He looked at her, his face scrunched, "And what made you think I was happy there? There were lots of people here...it was a good party."

"For me Dad, it looked like a party for two." She looked down at her hands.

"Alexis, what are you talking about? Because I'm confused...or just not following you very well."

"To me Dad, the only people at the party were you...and Detective Beckett."

He looked truly surprised, "What? Why would you say that?"

"It's hard to explain, but Grams and I..."

Before she could finish, "Wait! What do you mean, Grams and you?"

"I'm not suppose to say anything. But we both thought you two were so cute. Her eyes lite up when you spook and you seem to...glow...around her."

"Glow? What does glow mean?"

"That's not the right word. You seem to radiate happiness with her." She shook her head, "No that's not the word either...but you get the drift?"

"You've almost got me speechless here. First it's you and Grams...then glow or radiate. What exactly do you think you saw?"

"You'll laugh at me."

"Sweetie, I will not laugh at you."

After she told him, he did not laugh. Instead, he slid back into the sofa, slouching and laying his head against the top edge. "Why would think that my little one?"

"Dad, I have always dreamed about a day when you'd find someone. I just kinda...you know, had idea of what that would look like. But I never saw it, until the party. And it struck me, that...that's what love looks like." When he did not respond, she leaned against him, "I'm sorry Dad. I've said too much."

He lifted his arm and pulled her against him, "No my wonderful and wise daughter, you have not." Pulling her tighter, he kissed the top of her head, and whispered, "I love you Alexis."

"I love you Daddy."

XX

It was Tuesday. Castle had agreed to stay at the Twelfth while she went to lunch with her dad.

She made her way to the cafe where he waited in their booth for her.

As always he greeted her with a hug, "How are you Dad?"

"I'm good Katie."

They ordered and spent the time laughing over stories from the precinct about the boys and Castle. Her dad told a story about an attorney arguing with a judge. He said he wondered if the attorney was too stupid to know how close he came to going to jail for contempt.

After the meal was over and the plates cleared, they got ready to go. She felt better, her dad had a way of calming her. She smiled at him, "Dad, thanks for taking the time for me today. I really needed a break."

"You know I'm always here for you. But before you run." He paused, "It's not my business, but what's troubling you Katie? You seem to have lost your spark."

She looked down at the table, "A little. I...I need to end things with Tom. He's a nice guy." She paused, "No that's not fair. He's a really great guy. But...my heart is just not there. I've tried...but..."

"Katie, look at me." He waited for her to look up, "You should never pretend, or try to love someone. Love doesn't work like that. It captures you and take you away. You don't corner it or talk yourself into it."

"I just feel terrible...but I'm not in love." Another pause and examination of her hands, "It's just so complicated."

He looked out the window, then spoke in a low voice, "Katie, where is your writer in all this?"

She tried to laugh, but it failed. "You know he's not _my_ writer." She looked out the window, "He's around, but still planning his upcoming wedding."

"Katie, listen to your dear old Dad," she lifted her head. "He is _your_ writer! And that wedding is _never_ going to happen." He reached over and patted her hand.

"I hope not Dad. I hope not."

XX

Although Castle spoke to no one about the stairwell incident, it was still wreaking havoc in him. He could no longer saw her as just a cop. He found that he struggled more than ever before to just focus. Although others might see him as scatter-brained, he could easily get lost in a project and end up oblivious to those around him. But not anymore.

"Are you all right Rick?" Melissa Marrone asked as she sat on the leather sofa that faced his desk.

He didn't have a clue how to answer, he considered, confused? But settled with, "Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Because...like just like now. You didn't even look at me. You seem so distracted" Her tone was not confrontational, but sad.

He sat down his keyboard and moved over to sit near her. He studied his hands but remained silent.

"What is it? What are you not telling me?"

He started to speak, but stopped, then finally he looked up at her, "I'm having second thoughts...about..."

"Second thoughts about us Rick?"

"Second thoughts about me...about my terrible marriage history. I'm afraid. I simply do not trust myself to make the decision."

Her voice became slightly harder, "Why are you getting cold feet now?"

"You remember the ring thing, when Beckett told me I was being shallow."

"Forget Beckett!" She barked, "Ignore her, she's not the one getting married."

"But..."

"But nothing Rick. You let her get in your head and plant doubts." She paused, "Instead of listening to _her_ , you should be asking what her agenda is? And why she's trying to undo things?"

"It wasn't calculated, like I told you before. We were just driving, not really even talking and then I asked what size carat was right. She shot from the hip, no delay. It wasn't a game."

"Maybe she was just waiting."

"To have a discussion about diamond rings?" He shook his head, "This has nothing to do with her, it's me." He paused yet again, "The points made were beyond what I was thinking. It made me feel juvenile, like I was pretending."

"What were you pretending to be?"

"I don't know. I just didn't like the feel of it. I was suddenly disgusted with myself...like looking in the mirror and actually seeing who I am...and not liking what I saw."

She stood, walked around and then came back and sat beside him. He remained quiet.

"Where is this going Rick?"

He remained silent for a long time, "It means...I don't know and...I'm not sure..."

She up again, pacing, "Is it really that you're not sure? Or is there something else?"

He looked confused, "Why would you say that? What else would it be?"

She leaned against the table and crossed her arms. He didn't like the look. "I just wonder...if your second thoughts, have a name?"

"What does that mean?" But his head was down again.

She ignored his question, "Rick, is there a name behind all these doubts? Is somebody whispering to your fears?"

The question made him anger. She was still talking about Beckett. He chose silence.

"Let me suggest someone," his head came up and he stared at her, "How about...you got it, Kate Beckett?"

He did not want to argue. In fact, he did not even want to speak.

She continued, "I told you months ago... I did not want you working with her." She had moved over to the dining room table, but pushed off, and walked in a tight circle, hands on her hips."There was a reason! I knew she would try to steal you from me."

"Melissa, Beckett is not trying to steal anything." He considered this true. He had pushed Beckett and she had pushed back. But only one time.

She stopped and glared at him. "You're a terrible liar Rick. She's stolen everything, and you know it."

He let out a long sigh, "It was never her intent. That's not who she is."

"You're so wrong! That's exactly who she is. The moment you started following her... and then decided to write about her...I knew it was just a matter of time."

"I'm not writing about her. Its fiction. It's about a made-up cop, a made-up journalist."

"Don't you think that's a rather strange choice for you next book. Especially when your fiancee loathes the police."

"Melissa, I don't just pick what I write about. It has to...to grab my attention. To somehow prod me out of my mediocrity, like wind in sail. You can't pick the direction of the wind, it takes you away. It..."

"Have you slept with her?" Her voice going hard and flat again.

"What? No I haven't sleep with her. I would not do that." His anger was started to boil. It was a feeling he did not like. "It offends me that you would even ask."

"Fine, have you kissed her."

He remained silent.

"Really Rick? Are you actually following the police? Or...just hiding in dark alleys making out with your cop-girlfriend? While I'm home waiting for you, in your bed?"

"I am not doing that! I would not do that."

"Let me be the lawyer that I am, 'Mr. Castle have you ever kissed Detective Kate Beckett, yes or no?'"

"I don't want to play this game Melissa." He stood and walked over towards his office door.

He felt the pillow from the sofa fly past his head, and then the shrill voice of his fiancee, "Damn it Rick have you kissed her?"

He turned and faced her, "Yes!"

She turned and headed for the door, "Don't wait up for me. I will not be back tonight, I'm staying at my place."

"Mel, don't leave. It's late..."

She turned, her voice cold, "Don't worry about me...now you can call your bimbo muse."

He stood still and listened as the front door closed, the lock clicking hard as she pulled it shut. This was not the plan. What had just happened?

XX

Samantha Kren had worked for months following and taking photographs and now it had finally paid off. It was all falling into place for her. She'd trolled and finally there was fruit for all her efforts. Endless hours of reading had garnered the pieces of the story. But the key to the story were the photographs. Her guy, Cody Sanchez was a kid who had finished high school without any idea of what he wanted to do. But he loved photography. He had learned to use his phone to capture interesting people and events. While the work was good, and showed his talent, his equipment was an android phone, and was crap.

Samantha had invited Cody by her office. He was always happy to be around the hubbub of the news world. After he arrived they talked more about what she was looking for on the Castle story. She explained her suspicions and the need for absolute secrecy. When they had covered all the essentials she suggested they go down to the employee cafeteria for a cup of coffee. She asked Cody to carry a medium size shopping bag for her, while she grabbed something to write on. When they got to their table he asked where to put the bag. She looked up and smiled.

"It's for you Cody."

"What do mean for me?"

"You do really good work and I have high expectations of you."

Like everything else in the high tech world, small was king. Cody pulled a small but powerful mirror-less camera from the bag. His eyes lighting up. Next came two lens, one which was a high-powered zoom lens. She thought his face would break his smile was so big.

"Sam, Whoa...whoa! What did this cost you?"

She beamed back. "Doesn't matter! A big story will help both of us. It could be the start of more work, and better pay." She paused again and smiled. "I just need you to do your magic. Can you do that?"

"Can I do it? Yeah I can. I promise you won't be disappointed."

And she wasn't.

Cody had come back with stunningly crisp and clear photos. Capturing Rick Castle and Kate Beckett in all sorts of places. Looking at one another, with wide-eyed smiling faces. Laughing, teasing, occasionally swatting at each another. The pictures revealed two people genuinely enjoying their work, and each other. But the detectives looks, when he wasn't looking, were priceless. She oozed affection. Samantha's quickly figure out her biggest task would be picking the best shots for the limited column space.

She had picked the banner for Page Six. Her hunches had been right. Regardless of Black Pawns spin, the woman in Castles life was not Melissa Marrone. The beginning of Samantha's story was like a pearl on a string and it would not be alone for long. It would end up a beautiful necklace, and it had a name – Katherine Beckett.

The first clue was the building. She now knew that Richard Castle had lobbied successfully to obtain a zoning variance with the help of his friend the Mayor. There would soon be a new multi-use project in Manhattan. It would retain the buildings original name, from decades ago - _The Beckett Building._ Samantha could not accept that this was an accident. Such things did not, just happen.

The next hint of something between them had come from the bat incident months ago. It was the story of a guy jumping in front of a bat to protect, his woman. But that sounded a bit cave-mannish to Samantha, what she preferred was, to protect his love.

Then the Channel 7 interviews. The first led to Castle having to following the police for some, new insight. Everyone knew he had ticked off the Major and was being punished. But then a rumor spread that he was staying on, to do research for a new book. And while the story line was unknown. The characters were not a secret. It was to be about a police woman and a writer. After hearing this, she looked at the ceiling and yelled "Duh!"

In the second interview he sounded like a different person. Castle had gone from calling the cops bad. To unabashed praise and protection of none other than Detective Kate Beckett. She thought he was going to build a shrine to her during the interview.

But then she found another source completely by accident, while getting her hair done. One of the stylist at the shop was cutting a customer's hair. She told a story about Castle and Beckett visiting a place on the water front as a possible wedding venue. The customer went on and said, when the two held hands in a mock wedding ceremony, the clouds cleared and a shaft of light filled the room. The customer was thrilled over how beautiful it had been. Needless to say, Cody had spent significant time at the location trying to get some great shots.

The editor gave Samantha everything above the fold for the story, with banner that declared:

 _ **Richard Castle and the Woman of His Dreams**_

 _ **Why All Things are Beckett for Him**_

What followed were four of Cody's best shots of a loving couple. Below were six additional pictures, and a 1500 word story. It spelled out the secret relationship of Richard Castle and Detective Kate Beckett. It was make believe, sort of. But when she linked all the pieces together, it was a plausible tale. And, there was no question, it would sell a lot of papers.

While the marriage of one of the cities most eligible bachelors had been followed in the gossip pages. The implosion of the planned wedding event, due to the surprising relationship between the detective and the writer, was a giant story. It would end up end up as one of the best days for the Page 6 series. And like all bombs, there would be a lot of fall-out.

When the word began to spread of the story. The gossip meters startled ticking like a Geiger Counter. Ironically, it had been less than a month since Detective Beckett secretly whispered to Richard Castles her declaration of 'forever.' She would have never imaged that the world was not far behind him on the learning scale.

XX

Demming had stopped for coffee, due to an early morning call. He needed the caffeine to fend off the lack of sleep. He grabbed the morning paper and started to peruse. It was not in his usual routine to read the gossip page, but today was different. He drank his coffee and thumbed through the paper when the pictures of Castle and Beckett caught his eye. Kate had talked about the writer, a lot, and he had told himself not to worry. What he saw was a shock to him.

He read the article and studied the photos, and felt himself start to sink. It was his girlfriends name associated with the break-up of Castles marriage plans. He felt like he'd been ambushed. And now because of her interaction with this public figure he would be drug into the mess. He never signed up for this.

As he considered the past year or so together with her, he thought about all the things he liked about her, even loved. Of course she was drop dead beautiful, but once past that, it not beauty that held him, but her wit and compassion for what she did. She was as tenacious as junk-yard dog. Fearless in her pursuit of criminals. The loss of her mother left a layer of sensitivity that restrained those aggressive traits. It tethered her to the victims. She naturally identified with each one. She was truly sorry for their loss because she herself had struggled with the same thing for years.

But, there was a side to Kate Beckett, he'd never seen. It was as though he'd moved into a house, but never got the key to the back to rooms. They were off limits to him. He didn't know what she had locked away, but he had an idea. Maybe it was his own insecurities, the sense that if anything happened between them, she would go on. He feared she had never been vested in them. And now, all his fears had come home to roost.

When Richard Castle came on the scene, it was as though he instantly undid any progress they'd made on their trip to the Caribbean. He'd hoped they'd take the next step. Move-in with one another. Talk about the a future. Talk about their future and hopefully decide to make it permanent. But the step they had taken was not forward but was instead backwards. If anything, Kate had cooled and become more distant.

He could pretend and wait her out. Just see what would happen, but that wasn't him.

On the third ring she answered, "Hey Tom, how are you?"

"Kate, I'm...OK."

"Hum, that didn't sound OK. You not feeling well?"

"Had an early call. I'm trying to load up with coffee."

"I get that...ever since we got our new coffee machine, I've think I doubled my intake."

"And how does the 12th get a new coffee machine? Ours over here is a piece of crap." He groaned.

She hesitated and sighed to herself. "Well...Castle hated our coffee and bought us a fancy coffee and espresso machine. The coffee's really good."

When he didn't speak she waited, "Tom, you there?"

"Yeah!" After a couple of beats, but with a flat tone, "You have time for lunch today?"

"No. I'm sorry. We have a meeting with Montgomery. We're doing a lunch thing, he said he needs to fill us in on some 1PP policy stuff. How about dinner?"

"What time?"

"7:00?"

"OK, text me when you done, we can pick a place to eat."

"Sounds good. Hope your day goes OK."

"Thanks." But it didn't sound genuine. "There's one more thing," And he paused again, which for some reason made her feel uneasy about his tone. Then he spoke, "Kate have you read Page 6 today?"

"No, why? I don't read that crap."

"You might want to take a look...text me when you're ready for dinner." Then, the connection was broken.

She sat for a couple of minutes wondering what that was about. She glanced around the office looking for some loose newspapers. It was still too early. She could go find one but she had other things to do.

XX

At 8:05 that morning she heard Ryan and Esposito arrive. They were laughing and Esposito punched at Ryan's shoulder.

"Then you tell me a song!" Ryan whined at his partner.

"I don't know any songs about that...wait how about, "Take A Ring Off It?"

"Yeah right, and it's "Put A Ring On It!"

They looked up and saw Beckett starring at them. Both immediately dropped the banter.

"Yo Beckett, morning."

She rolled her eyes, "What are Mutt and Jeff up to today?"

"Cute boss, cute."

"So. You want to tell me what's so funny?"

Both men looked at one another. Suddenly their conversation about the Page 6 article wasn't so funny. While digging for a song about a home-wrecker had been a fun distraction, they were now face-to-face with the alleged culprit. It dawned on each man just how hard this would be on her.

Ryan took his seat at his desk and Esposito walked over and sat in her guest chair.

"So?" Beckett said, tossing her most disinterested look at him.

But his face was surprisingly sober. It was like the universe was slightly off. "Have you read the paper today?"

"You're the second person to ask me that in the last hour." He now had her full attention.

He looked at the paper in his lap, "Well...you should read Page 6, you're...just read it."

She stuck out her hand, "Give me the paper."

He handed it over. The second her eyes saw the name Castle and Beckett, she froze. And then she saw the pictures.

She read for less than 30 seconds, and then stood. "I need to...to go out for a few minutes."

Esposito hadn't moved. "We'll cover with Montgomery."

He watched as she grabbed her coat, made her way to the elevator and disappeared. She did not look happy.

XX

"Lanie, you have a couple of minutes?"

"Well Detective Beckett?" Dripping with sarcasm, "What's up my friend, and, I always have time for you?"

"I think I'm in trouble!"

"What kind of trouble?"

"Big! Big trouble."

"Where are you?" The ME now beginning to worry.

"Two minutes from your building."

Five minutes later Beckett sat on the ME dissection table.

"So spill girlfriend, spill!"

"I think I broke up a marriage."

"You? The Ice Queen! Did what?"


	13. Chapter 13

A/N - Thanks for reading, as well as your many follows, favorites and reviews.

All mistakes are my own. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

 **The Interview**

 **Chapter 13**

When Beckett returned to the office, she felt no better. Confession was supposed to help the soul. But her priest, the ME, had not only listened, but added a dose of lecture to the mix. While she was still preoccupied with Laine's thoughts. She was struck by the eery silence at precinct and it jarred her into the present. She felt the eyes of every person in the bullpen lock onto her.

As she walked to her desk, she stopped by Esposito's, "We good here Espo?"

"Yeah, told the Captain you had an errand... and, you just missed Castle. Looks like he left you something." Pointing at her desk, "Said he had to run."

"Thanks Javier."

At her desk was a cup of coffee and a small pastry bag. _Beckett_ was scribbled across the cup and again on a note placed neatly underneath the bag. She smiled, her first honest one of the day. He had thought about her again, with coffee and food, along with a note. The only thing missing, was him.

She pulled off the lid and inhaled the aroma. It was like a drug. It flooded her head in pleasure. Taking a small sip, and letting the warm liquid sooth her throat, she let out a small hum and mumbled, "Thank you Castle."

She unfolded the note and read.

 _Beckett:_

 _Going to my place in the Hamptons, be back in five or six days._

 _Sorry you ended up on Page 6. I forget that the public life has repercussions for those around me. It looks like you've been drug into this mess with M and me. For once, the press got it right. She and I are over. And it does have to do with you. But this mess is not your fault. You simply confirmed a fear I've been ignoring. I didn't want to be alone and had hoped that maybe she was the one. She wasn't. I think I've known that for sometime now._

 _For so long its seems I keep reaching for everything I want, but to no avail. It always ends up the same. Me. Alone. And just as undone as when I started. There are times I feel like I have a Midas' like touch. But at my hand, it isn't gold that things turn into, but trash._

 _Just need to clear my head._

 _Rick_

Beckett heard an audible gasp and realized she had made it. She felt the sting of a tear run down her cheek. She looked up and saw Esposito staring at her. His face reflected the ache she was feeling. She swiped at the tear as inconspicuously as she could, and saw him making his way to her desk.

She put her head down, not wanting him to see her cry, "Boss, you OK?"

"Yeah," her voice raspy and thick.

"If you need something, let me know."

She emitted a weak, "Thank you Espo." Then she stood and made her way to the restroom.

Fortunately, the room was empty. She moved to the furthest stall, flopped down the lid and sat. She put her face in her hands and moaned. She felt something snap inside and then the tears erupted. As with Castle, her world was tumbling down. She had found the draw to him frightening. It felt nearly uncontrollable. The more she resisted, the more it pulled her. She knew her relationship with Tom had hit the rocks shortly after Castle arrived. She had worked hard at denying it. She tired to chalk it up to infatuation with her favorite writer, but that didn't work either. That idea was was quickly replaced with a deep, genuine fear over the strength of the pull he had on her. And she was not star struck. In those instances, meeting your favorite star was an immediate cure to such folly. But in this situation, working with him had simply swamped her ship.

She sensed that Tom had picked up on the change. She was preoccupied. She constantly broke dates. She seemed to have endless meetings that needed attending. She was working later than usual and was always with her 'partner.' He has questioned her on how a civilian could even be a cop's partner, but she insisted their partnership was different.

Now Castle had gone away and his note was filled with desperation. It frightened her.

XX

At 6:30 pm she received Tom's text: _I've got Thai food being delivered to my place at 7:00, hope that works for you._

Her response was quick. _It does._ _S_ _ee you then_.

She had thought all day, about both Tom and Castle. The Page 6 thing was like a buzz, she had little doubt what Tom would think.

She knew she and Tom would be over by the end of the evening. She had planned to tell him sooner. But the new article just sped up the time table. She was not looking forward to it.

But deep down, she was ashamed. She never acted this way. She was never impulsive. Her fall back position was to tell him not to worry, the paper was wrong. There was nothing between her and Castle. They were just trying to sell newspapers. But each one of these points, were weak and off point. It was just a delay tactic. Also not like her. She did not know where Castle's head was, but she knew where hers was. It was not in her current relationship.

It was judgment day for her, and she would be found wanting. She had secretly withdrew her heart. Her treachery had started the night Castle jumped in front of the bat. He was being a gentleman, but it was more to her. He'd reached in and turned the key to her heart. She was not aware at the time. But everything in her world changed in that instant.

She found herself before the door to Tom's apartment. Her headed still preoccupied by the thoughts of the day. She took a deep breath, knocked light and turned the door handle.

Tom Demming looked up at her, "Hey good timing, the food just got here."

"Great I'm starving!" Which was not entirely true. Her appetite had fallen prey to her nerves on the trip over.

They ate and small talked about the day. Both refusing to mention the elephant in the room. Still the tension was palpable. When they'd cleared the plates Demming asked if she would like a glass of wine. She accepted and they made themselves comfortable on the large sofa.

He went first. "I take it you read the article?"

"Yeah, there was a copy at the office."

"Not exactly flattering for you Kate." He showed little emotion.

She surprised herself by becoming defensive, and angry. "Tom, it's the press! They'll write anything to sell papers."

I get that, but they weren't writing about anything. They were writing about you."

"Well they got it wrong. I didn't break up Castles marriage plans. That's just BS." But thinking, _Really Kate?_ _Really?_ _Y_ _ou_ _are_ _not innocent in th_ _at_ _mess._

"We've been together for over two years." He stopped for a couple of beats and ran his hand through his hair. "You know I was not happy over the way our vacation ended. But there's more..."

"What do you mean?"

"Kate, do you really have to ask?"

"I...I don't know what you mean." Her response was honest and he could read it on her face. She wasn't following his thought.

He sat the glass down his glass of wine. And looked at her, as though he was studying her. "Since we returned from vacation, and you started working with Castle," he paused trying to pick his words, "You've changed. Something has shifted with us. I don't know, it feels like you just drifted away."

She looked at him, still trying to sort out his point, "What changed Tom?"

"Small things." He waived his hand, as though he was dismissing them for something, bigger. "As time passed...you just closed down on me. Shut yourself off."

She started to speak, but then remained silent.

He continued, "Remember the precinct party? Everyone was laughing...having a good time. Then someone asked him about something that happened in a case." He paused again and looked away, like he was remembering. "You and he, answered in a perfectly synchronized response...like it was scripted." He looked at her with an intense glare, "Do you understand Kate, you spoke each other words."

She shook her head, "That was a fluke Tom."

"Kate stop! It wasn't a fluke. It wasn't the synchronized thing that bothered me. You didn't notice that two or three times during the party... you guys completed each others sentences. Do you know what that says?" She did not respond.

"It means you're in each others heads. You should have seen the look on his fiancee's face. If you two hadn't been laughing and going on like you were the only people in the room, you might have noticed...she was freaked."

"Tom, it's nothing, it's just something we do with each other..."

He waved his hand, like he was dismissing a subordinate. But he was simply accepting that it was a dead end. "I wasn't going to ask this way...but...just tell me Kate. When did you first know?"

"Know what?"

He shook his head, "Fine if you don't understand. I'll spell it out." He turned again and faced her head-on, "When did you first know about your feelings for him?"

She had watched this conversation play out like she was an outside observer. This was not going as planned. She felt she was a victim of feelings she had never experienced before. As if choosing were out of her reach. She had argued and defended herself, instead of confessing. It was disheartening.

She again dropped her head, shifting her attention to her hands. When she spoke it was nearly a whisper, "I'm not sure...I tried to ignore it...tried to ignore...things."

Now his voice was low, but firm, "When...were you going to tell me?"

His calm bothered her. She expected an explosion, but obviously he'd thought about this for awhile. Gathering the things he saw, the things she tried to ignore or hide. But she was also surprised at what was going on in her head and that she was not fully into this discussion. She was at the end of a two year relationship, again, and her thoughts were, elsewhere.

She found herself drifting back to Castles note, worried over it's ominous tone. She needed to talk to him.

"When Kate?" Now the calm was gone. His anger was seeping out.

"I don't know... I thought it would blow over, and..."

"And what?"

"Tom, I don't have any answers. This was not something I planned. Not something I ever thought about."

He stood again and moved from place to place in the room, trying to find a spot, but it was clear his building agitation would not allow such comfort.

Finally he stopped, turned and faced her. "You know...or have known for awhile...that we were done?"

A tear coursed down her cheek, "Yes..I knew…I'm sorry Tom."

XX

Castle sat in a lounge chair facing the ocean. He looked at the glass of scotch next to him. It was his third and it was making things worse, not better. He was upset by what had played out and adding the burden of alcohol to the mix wasn't working. He pushed the glass away.

His emotions were divided. He knew when Mel stormed out early in the week, that they were not likely to repair things between them and that was fine with him. She would not wait and he would not ask. It was not time he needed. His confession about the kiss would never be forgotten nor forgiven. In some ways, their end was a relief. His fears had held on to him like a tenacious child. He had rerun the many conversations with his neighbor and the urgings for him to be honest with himself, to corner his heart. He thought now that what he had called childish, were instead frank urgings of his heart. Warning him that his plans were wrong and a course change was needed.

But the other truth was, he was alone and that fact carried its own emotions. The demons he'd run from had caught him and cast him off in the Hamptons. A place to lick his wounds. He thought he heard their laughter somewhere out above the dark ocean. He had again nearly fallen prey to his own foolishness. His personal trust factor was at an all time low.

Then there was Beckett. There was no question that she could make his blood run fast. Kissing her had been electric. He could not erase the brief encounter from his thinking, as it played over and over in his head, like a musical loop. He told himself, he was in no position to run to another relationship. He simply did not trust himself. He had little doubt his foolish heart would betray him and he'd end up back in the Hamptons. Sitting in the dark with a glass of scotch.

He had no idea what was next but decided his best plan was a week here in the Hamptons. It would help clear his head. He owed it to himself and everyone else.

XX

She had been at home for over an hour. The dinner and talk with Tom had been exhausting. She knew it would not be easy. It was now nearly 9 pm and she needed sleep. But disappointment washed over her and was making her head spin. She knew it was coming. But it just so hard and she had acted like an idiot.

And there was more.

It was hard to admit that you don't really understand your own conduct. Don't really know your own heart. She had honestly considered Tom's urgings to take their relationship to the next step. To move towards permanency. But then in just the drop of a hat, she had moved on. She was gone and it all happened in less than a week.

She thought back to the night that started it all. She and Castle had done the camera search and he jumped in front of the swinging bat. She knew it wasn't because his lady was in harms way. She wasn't that to him. It was because of who he was and before that night she had wondered if he even saw her. She sensed his waiting on Esposito for directions and not her. But after the altercation and the run to his loft to clean up his cuts it started to shift for her. Then the encounter with his fiancee and something just clicked. Her heart skipped and she knew. While cleaning his scrapes and cuts, even while he whined, her strongest desire was to wrap her arms around him. To thank him for his stupid chivalry. Even as his girlfriend looked on.

She came back to the present and looked around her empty apartment, it hurt. She has forbid herself on the way home to even contact Castle. He said he would be back. He needed space. She would honor his request.

Fifteen minutes later, her phone sat on her lap. She stared at the text she would not send. The words starring back at her, _Thanks for the coffee and your note._ _Are_ _you OK?"_

Then she hit send.

It took nearly 10 minutes before he responded. She had fidgeted the whole time. Finally the response, " _Yeah._ "

Her immediate impulse was to get in the car and go find him. But then she thought of her promise to give him space. The text was a push, but going to find him would be way overboard. She did not want to crowd him.

She fussed over the phones letters, and decided on, _"Can I call you, please?"_

The response was immediate. _Yes._

She touched and held the number seven on her phone, speed dialing him. As the phone dialed she thought about how angry Tom had been when he found out Castle was on her speed dial. When his picture had popped up it made things even worse. He had demanded to know why this 'interloper' had made his way to her list and why she needed his picture. She thought the real question was, why wasn't Tom's picture on her speed dial? She said it was for calling with 'body drop information' and that she would text him along with the rest of her team. Tom argued he wasn't on her team. Beckett explained that as far as her boss was concerned, Castle was to be treated just like every other team member. They left it at a draw. Her thoughts were interrupted by his voice.

"Hey, Beckett!"

"Castle thanks for taking my call."

He let out a small laugh, "Beckett... you don't have to ask to call me."

"Well you sounded like, you just needed to be alone and..." She stopped, should she tell him what was really on her mind?

"And what Beckett?"

Tentatively, "Your note... kinda scared me." Her voice trailing off.

"Why would it scarce you?"

"You just sounded really down...and you don't turn things to trash. They were not words I would ever expect from you."

He didn't speak for fifteen or twenty seconds, but she could hear him breathing. To her it felt like an hour.

"I'm not in a place I expected to be." Another long pause. "I thought I was getting married...the nearly 15 years of being alone was ending. Thought I had figured it all out...but I hadn't, in fact I wasn't even on the right page."

"I'm sorry Castle. Speaking of pages, I'm sorry about the Page 6 splash...and the mess with your engagement...this whole situation being played out in the news."

"Beckett, Page 6 had nothing to do with this." He was quiet for a beat, "If there's an apology due...I'm the one who's sorry for you getting dragged into this." He paused again, trying to decide if he should even ask, and then moved forward. "What did Tom say about the article?"

"We a...had a," she paused and sighed, "A serious talk..."

"What does that mean?" Castle sounding confused by her answer.

"He wanted to know how long?"

"How long?"

"How long I knew he and I were over."

"Kate...now I don't know what to say." He had only used her first name a couple of times in the past. But it was clear what Demming had asked, and what her answer meant.

It was not missed by her. She immediately felt a hitch in her breathing, followed by the release of all the emotions from the encounter with Tom. She exhaled and it came out as a quiet sob.

"Beckett, are you crying?"

"Castle..." Her voice thick.

After she calmed down, they moved to safer, quieter waters. They discussed his writing and things at the Twelfth. They moved on to Alexis and his mother. He told her a couple of stories about when he and his mom were moving around, as she pursued her acting career. That led to a some stories about the days when Beckett was growing up. She and her cousin had raced down a hill and crashed. Both ended up with cut knees and hands after they tired to turn too quickly on a gravel road.

Another time, when in high school, Beckett had been driving a small street motorcycle with the young owner sitting behind her. Suddenly a car pulled in front of them and stopped. The older driver of the car froze at the sight of the on-coming motorcycle. Beckett laid the bike on its side and slid right up to the rear tire of the car. The driver sat looking at them for a few seconds and then, simply drove off. She and the young man got up and drove a couple of blocks to her house where her dad was barbequing hamburgers. The two riders agreed to say nothing and no one seemed to notice the small tears in their denim pants.

"You are so cool Beckett."

She let out a laugh, "Because I almost got killed?"

His voice reflecting admiration, "Because you didn't. And instinctively knew what to do."

She laughed again.

"If we ever get in a gun battle, I'm hanging close to you."

Her voice turned stern, "I would _never_ want you anywhere near a gun battle...remember you're not a cop."

"Just saying, if it happens. I'm with you."

"Well...it's not happening."

A few minutes later she looked at her watch. She had called just to see how he was. But realized they had been talking for over an hour and thirty minutes. "Castle it's getting late. I should go."

"I know, but I just wanted to talk for a bit."

She laughed again. "Do you know how long we've been on the phone?"

"Not long."

"How about an hour and a half!"

He was quiet for a few beats, then in a subdued tone, "I'm happy you called."

Her throat constricted at his tone of gratitude. "Me to." She waited and then added, "When will you be home?"

"Next week. I need a few days to clear my head."

She did not like the answer. She wanted him home soon. But she would not push, "Will you keep in touch?"

"Of course...and Beckett...thank you."

"For what?"

"For being there and taking the time...I'm sure you're tired."

"Yes and no...but I'm glad we talked. Nite Castle."

"Sleep well."

XX

"Hey Dad."

"Katie, I've been busy, but I'm pretty sure it's not Tuesday."

She gave up a small laugh, "No, it's Saturday...can you buy me a tuna melt?"

"Of course. What time?

"11:30 work for you?"

"See you there."

It ended up that she was the first to arrive. She sat quietly and considered the swirls of cream in her coffee. She started when she heard her name and felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Dad."

"I'm sorry Katie I didn't mean to scare you."

"I was just thinking...not really paying attention."

He slid into the booth across from her. "Well, it's great to have lunch with the not so rich, but suddenly famous."

"Funny!" But she could not hold back the laughter.

"Hey. My Daughter is famous, and it just keeps growing." He patted her hand. "From the youngest female Detective in New York City, to the subject of a couple of TV interviews, and...a home wrecker."

"Dad! Gee your killing me. So you saw the article?"

"I'm teasing...because it's bull. But...how could _anyone_ resist my Daughter?"

"Not sure that sounds too good...isn't that like...the home-wrecker no man can resist?" She groaned at the thought.

"So, where is your writer in this caldron of press abuse?"

She looked down at her coffee, and the spoke, "The Hamptons."

"And what do you think of that?"

"Dad, we're not a couple. He can do as he pleases." She paused for a moment, "We talked on the phone for over an hour last night. Says he'll be back within four or five days, a week at the most."

"Really?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Well…I think you are a couple, and he should be here. And second, if he can stay away from you for that long." He paused and pulled on both of her hands, "You should kick him to the curb!"

"Dad!"

XX

On Sunday afternoon he fell asleep on the sofa. Castle heard his phone rattle on the coffee table. He pried open one eye and watched it dance.

He reached over and patted the table, grabbing the phone, "Castle."

"Dad are you asleep? It's the middle of the day. I figured you be up pacing or something."

"Alexis. I seemed to have conked out here."

"Well I didn't hear from you yesterday...and you seemed pretty upset on Friday when you left."

"I was upset." He let out a sigh, "Mel and I had a pretty big fight and...it was clear we were done...but the story in the paper just hammered home the point."

"If you were done," Her tone hardening, "What difference did the story make?"

"It's like...you know, having a mistake rubbed in your face. Just not that pleasant."

"Dad I'm confused." The harshness still in her tone.

"What about?" But before she could answered he added, "Why do you sound...angry."

"You're telling me you and Mel are done….which I've known for a long time and...you're in the Hamptons. Why?"

"I just need to clear my head."

She huffed, "That's stupid Dad." Adding more gruffness to her tone, "Grams told me that men were...slow."

"Your Grandmother said that about me?"

"No...she was talking about men in general. And you seem to be following the pattern."

"What are you so unhappy about Alexis? What have I done?"

"You don't know do you?"

"Alexis you woke me up. You know I need coffee to really wake up. So my brain is barely functioning. You're going to have to just spit it out."

"Detective Beckett Dad...Detective Beckett!"

"What about Detective Beckett?"

"You should be with her!" Her words clipped and hard. "Not hiding in the Hamptons."

She made a guttural sound of pure frustration. "You're used to the Page 6 trash, she's not. She was outed in the press as _your_ girlfriend and probably had a pretty rough time with that Demming guy. My guess is he's more than likely her Ex at this time...and you're in the Hamptons?" She pause for a second or two, "I don't get that Dad...this is not about you."

He was quiet for a few moments.

Alexis didn't wait, "Dad...you there?"

When he spoke his voice oozed defeat, "I'm here Pumpkin...and you're right. I need to get home."

"Yes! You do!" Still offering no sympathy.

"I'll button things down here and see you for dinner around seven."

"You should be seeing _her_ , not me."

"I'll call her when I get in. I'd like to surprise her at work tomorrow morning."

"Surprise her tonight! Not the morning." She hung up.

XX

It had been a terrible week-end, aside from the call from Castle and lunch with her dad. She felt more isolated than she had imagined was possible. There was also a hint of resentment. Castle had sent a text, telling her he'd be home early in the week. He hoped she was OK.

She grumbled to the wall, "Yeah great. Why aren't you here?"

She had a glass of cheap red wine sitting on the coffee table that she nursed as she attempted to read. She was interrupted by a light rap on her door and wondered who it could be. She wished it was pizza, but she hadn't ordered anything, yet.

She opened the door about a quarter of the way and looked out. Castle had turned to look back towards the elevator for just a second. She was only able to squeak out a raspy, "Castle!" Then swung the door wide and launched herself at him.

He turned at his name, but just in time for her embrace. He almost tipped over but she held him up straight. "Beckett, I..."

He smiled, trying to appear innocent, "I was hoping you might have time for a cup of coffee?"

She smiled, distracted by the question, "I have coffee." Pointing over her shoulder towards her kitchen.

"Am I interrupting something?"

She ignored his question, "I'm so glad you're here." Her head against his chest.

He moved back, but only a few inches and looked down at her. She was in an over-sized top and black tights. Her feet were bare and her hair in a pony-tail. She looked absolutely beautiful to him. He pulled her close then moved in to kiss her. It was a tender, slow kiss. Like he was savoring her. She pulled him hard against herself, expressing without words the unspoken hunger she felt. When they broke apart, he spoke first, "Twenty-six days since I kissed you Detective."

She had taken a half step back, but stood still, eyes wide, saying nothing. Then she leaned back into him, and kissed him gently, "And nine hours." She beamed this time.

They just stared at each other for a few more beats. "Castle it's Sunday. You didn't call me yesterday." She lightly thumped his chest with her finger, scolding him. "You said you were going to take a few days."

"That was my plan...but...I had a…a serious talk with my daughter who had some rather strong opinions and here I am." He paused, "First let me say I'm sorry. I had no right to run off to the Hamptons and leave you alone in the City."

She realized they were still standing in her doorway. She pulled him in and closed the door, then moved back a couple of steps. "Is there more?"

He looked at the ground. "Yeah, I was going crazy. There's nothing in the Hamptons for me. So, I threw my stuff in the car and headed home...wanted to surprise you."

"Well," Stepping forward she kissed him lightly on the cheek, "I am pleasantly surprised. And..."

"And what?"

"My Dad said you wouldn't be able to stay away from _his_ daughter too long."

"You should listen to your Dad." Leaning in to kiss the side of her mouth, "He sounds like a very smart man."

"And I'm glad you listened to Alexis."

"I'm sorry...should have been here for you." He moved his hands to her face, "Can I make it up with another kiss?"

She smiled, "It'll be a start."

XX

It was nearly 11:00 that evening when Castle left. They had clung to each other like teenagers on their first evening together.

When they'd decided they were hungry, they called for pizza. Part way through her first piece, she ended up with sauce on the side of her face. He teased her for being messy, but offered to assist. When she tilted her face to him, he started at it with a napkin, then switched at the last second, and kissed away the sauce.

"Castle, do you really need to kiss me while we eat?"

"I didn't want to waste a napkin, and...my lips where right here."

"That is the lamest thing I've ever heard." But she was beaming.

The 'goodnight' at the door took at nearly fifteen minutes. The 'last kiss', required six attempts. It was only when she warned him away, telling him to 'leave now,' or she'd lock him in for the night that he reluctantly let go of her.

After he was gone she leaned against the door, her pulse racing. She mumbled to herself, "Go slow Kate, go slow." But her entire body hummed. To say she was happy about him being back, would be a giant understatement.

She grabbed her phone and dialed. She knew here dad always watched the late news before he went to bed.

"Kate, are you OK?" His voice laced with concern.

She laughed, "I'm fine Dad. I just wanted to tell you...he came home this afternoon."

It was Jim Beckett's chance to laugh, "Of course he did!" He let out another laugh, "What man could ever resist my incredible girl?"

She didn't respond immediately, and when she did, her voice was thick, "I love you Dad."

"I love you to Katie. I'm so glad to hear the happiness in your voice. It does my heart good."

"Thank you Dad."

"Sleep well my love."


	14. Chapter 14

A brief note: Your favorites, follows and reviews are greatly appreciated.

Any mistakes are my own. I hope you enjoy. Madreag.

* * *

 **The Interview**

 **Chapter 14**

For Kate Beckett, the morning came too soon. The alarm rattled her awake but when the fog of sleep cleared, she smiled. It had been a wonderful Sunday. Over six hours alone with Castle. Their time together was something she had not experienced before. It was both easy and soothing, vanquishing the past months of stress and angst. She would not speak the words, but she actually felt lighter, as though a burden had rolled of her shoulders.

She parked the police cruiser on the street at the side of the Twelfth. For some reason the parking lot was already full. From her spot, it was closer to the front entrance than the back, so she headed in that direction. As she walked along, lost in thought, she saw someone in her peripheral vision and then heard a voice yell, "There she is!" She turned to see what the commotion was about. And then it hit her. It was about her.

Beckett faced four reporters, followed by a camera crew. The four newspeople had mikes in their hands, all were shooting questions at her. But for a moment she was distracted by her phone shaking in her hand. She looked down and saw Castle's face, then the screen switched to a text: _Watch out for the press, they were at my building this morning._

She mumbled, "Too late." and slid the phone in her pocket.

"Detective Beckett, is the Page 6 story true? Are you romantically involved with Richard Castle?"

Then another voice, "Detective, are you really the other woman who broke up his marriage plans?"

"Detective will you be leaving the force to join Mr. Castle on his upcoming book tour?"

"Detective weren't you in a relationship with another police officer?"

As the old saying goes, _This was not her first rodeo_. Beckett had been fending off the press, as the lead detective for years. She stopped in her tracks and stared straight into the cameras. "There are over 300 murders each year in New York City. As a Detective, my job is to investigate and identify the perpetrators of those crimes. In doing so we assist the families of the victims and allow the survivors a modicum of closure. To those ends, my team is dedicated and hard working. It is why I do what I do...for today an hopefully in the months and years to come. So, if you will excuse me. I need to get to work."

Someone called out her name again, but she held up her hand like a traffic cop, "Have a good day." With that she turned and walked away.

XX

Her team sat at their desks, all smiles as she walked in. Esposito spoke first, his voice up an octave, "Excuse me boss..."

She stopped, like she was trying to avoid stepping on a roach, keeping her shoulders squared and rolled her gaze down on him, glaring for a moment. "Do you have a questions Detective Esposito?" He shook his head slowly back and forth. "Then may I suggest you...get to work. Or do you need me to find something for you to do?"

"I'm good boss."

XX

He sat the cup of coffee on her desk, taking a second longer than usual to place it, followed by the pastry bag.

"Sorry about the press, I sent a text...but I see I was too late."

"You do tend to be...a bit slow Castle." Batting a quick smile his way.

She turned her attention to the coffee and froze. She looked up a him, and growled, "Did you do this?"

"Do what Detective?" His face a wide grin.

"Castle you do understand that most of New York thinks we're doing..."

His eyes started to dance, "What? What are we doing?"

She leaned closer. "You cannot write that on the side of my coffee cup."

"I didn't! The clerk did."

Her voice took on a slight hint of a plea, "Castle...promise me you will never do this again."

"Really, you don't want me...to tell you you're beautiful?"

Instead of speaking, she just blushed. Then her voice dropped in volume, "Of course you welcome that opinion. Just not scribbled across my coffee cup, and not here."

She reached into her desk and pulled out a Sharpie to cover up his declaration. At the same moment she felt someone standing at her desk. It was Esposito again. Before looking at him she glanced at Ryan, his face smeared with a grin. She thought, _Great! Here we go._

"What Espo? Thought we were done."

He smiled, "Well it looked like you two were having a problem and...thought I could help."

She worked on the cup then shook her head and rolled her eyes, "We're fine."

He ignored the answer and pointed at her work, "What someone can't spell Beckett?"

Castle interjected, "It's hard to get good help these days."

"Yeah!" He looked back and forth between the two of them, and shook his head. "Makes me think of an old song my neighbor used to sing by Patsy Cline...I think. What was the name? Oh, got it, "Love Letters in the Sand?" Anyway..."

She growled again, "Espo, I will find you something you don't want to do."

"No, No...I'm good." He turned and walked away.

XX

The morning had been busy so they stole away for lunch. Out the back door this time.

After they ordered she smiled at him. But said nothing.

He studied her and then checked his face. "What is there something on my collar? Or what? Why are you smiling like that?"

She laughed. "Nothing. Just smiling about the coffee cup this morning...so you think I'm..."

He sat up straight, and cleared his voice. "Am I allowed to speak now Detective Beckett?"

She let out a yelp, "Yes Mr. Castle you may speak your mind. Just don't tell everyone in this restaurant."

His smile slid away, and he reached across the table and took one of her hands in his. "I think you are...a pretty good looking chick!"

She pulled her hand back and swatted him. "Chick? Chick? You mean like a farm animal?"

He laughed at her. "I have decided to be cautious with my words of affection. I was subject to...shall we say, an icy reception already once today." He feigned a studying of his hands, "Men are more easily bruised than you might think."

"Have I told you you're full of…."

Cutting her off, "Detective. Detective. Careful, you're a public person now. Can't be declared a potty-mouth by the press."

"Oh yeah, I'll potty-mouth you. What are we, six years old?"

Reaching across the table and pulling his plate towards her, she grinned at him,"So you eating these fries or not?"

XX

There was no question that they were both a bit shell shocked from the Page 6 article exposure. As well as the way the relationships ended with Melissa and Tom.

They had both reminded themselves to be cautious. To take things slowly. Each had made mistakes and did not want a repeat performance.

But for Beckett, most of her reluctance had dissipated over the last few months. She had been 'living with' her feelings for Castle and wanted to move forward. She wanted them to wade in together and figure it out. For her, the sooner the better.

But she knew Castle was not in the same place. During most of their time together he had been distracted with, other things. And beyond their progress, she knew he was still irritated with himself.

Castle had almost ended up with what he believed would have been another disaster. Now he was fighting with his susceptible he felt to Beckett. And that was the dilemma. He wanted two things, which were complete contradictions. First to be careful. And second, to be with her.

It had been nearly two weeks since the Page 6 article. The media had moved on to the next story. And they had moved on with each other.

The good news was, he was writing a lot. He'd been splitting his days between the Twelfth and working at home. Beckett had expressed her displeasure with the arrangement. She wanted him with her at the Twelfth. But she understood his need to write. His dry spell had lasted for nearly a year and he was delighted to have the creative pulse alive, hammering in his brain.

They had worked out a schedule. He would write in the afternoons, unless a body dropped, and she would bring work by his place in the evening. It would give her a chance to pick his brain for ideas and have time alone with him and Alexis.

It wasn't perfect, but it was a start.

XX

"So how are you girlfriend?"

She looked up to see Lanie Parrish sitting in Castle's chair beside her desk. "Lanie! What brings you here?"

"To check and see if my BFF is alive."She shook her head, "What's the deal? You get a little splash of press, and what? I'm chopped liver?"

Beckett laughed, "Chopped liver?"

"You get my drift."

"It's just been very busy. He's here some and then off writing."

"Yeah, well this chair is cold. When's the last time he was here?"

"Earlier this morning."

The ME studied her for a few beats, "Do I sense a problem in paradise?"

"No. There's no problem...I just want him with me all the..." Her voice trailed off.

"Oh my! Oh, are you..?" She moved forward in her chair and studied her friend. Like she was examining a victim on her table.

The blush had started at her neck and was moving to her cheeks, "Am I what?" Her voice low.

The ME suddenly leaned back and sat up straight, batting her eyes, "As I live and breath. I think someone's." She leaned forward again and whispered, "In love!"

"No. I am not..." Another long pause, "Well...maybe."

XX

There was a knock at his door. It's was 7:45 and she was late. He swung open the loft's door and smiled at her. "Beckett, I was about to file a missing person report!"

"It's not even eight, I'm what, 30 minutes late?"

"Forty-five to be exact!" Tapping his watch.

"You are such...a mother."

"Hey, I'm a single parent! I have a child to worry about...it's hard to turn that off."

She just shrugged. Castle pointed at the office. "But, before we start. Can I get you something to eat?"

"No, I had a sandwich for lunch."

He shook his head, "Call me whatever you want. I'm fixing you something to eat."

She relaxed while she ate the soup and sandwich he whipped up for her. Then quickly slipped back into detective mode.

Once he sat down she pointed at the corner of his desk, "Can you look at that set of records? I think we're missing something."

"OK, let me see what you've got." He settled back in his chair and put his feet up on his desk. Meanwhile Beckett spread paper across his sofa.

Thirty minutes later she broke the silence between them, "Anything?"

"No, not yet, but there's a lot in here."

"Castle I drank a hundred cups of coffee this afternoon, I need a bathroom."

"A hundred?" He let out a laugh, "Through there, pointing at his bedroom. Second door on the right." But as she started to stand, the doorbell rang. Castle held out his hands in wonder, "I'll get the door."

As he made his way to answer the bell he wondered who got past Charlie? Especially this late in the day. When he swung open the door, all his questions were answered. "Melissa, what brings you by?" Trying to mask his surprise and sudden discomfort.

Beckett realized after two steps that she was in _his_ bedroom. She was not sure what she expected, but it was not this. The room was beautifully decorated with warm neutral colors. It looked almost staged to her, like a bedroom in an open house. When she entered the bathroom, the second door on the right as instructed. She gasped to herself, "You've got to be kidding me. This is bigger than my kitchen. Wow!" She smiled broadly and closed the door behind her.

"Rick, I needed to pick up my bag of things, but wanted to talk if you have time."

He wondered to himself what he'd done wrong to be in this situation. Is the universe mad at him? Is it bad karma? He does not want to hurt Melissa but thinks, _Nothing I'm going to say is going to undo this!_

"Rick are you OK?" It dawned on him that he hasn't said a word.

"Yeah...I was...just doing some work. A little distracted."

"I read the article, Was it true?"

"Was what true?"

"Did you dump me for her?"

"No! I told you I had doubts, and I meant that."

"Does that mean you need more time?"

Before he could respond both heard the office door click and swing open. Each turned to the sound. "Hey Castle who was at the...?" She stopped dead in her tracks.

Later, Castle would swear the room temperature dropped 10 degrees when the two women came face to face. Then another 10 degrees as they stared at one another.

Beckett spoke first, "I'll...be in the office." She turned around and closed the door.

"You have that bitch in my...in this house?"

"Mel, we're working." Pointing at the stacks of paper sitting on the coffee table.

"Right! Whatever you say?" Shaking her head in disgust, "How long have you two been at it?"

"What we're at! Is work!" His voice escalating with intensity.

She took a breath and calmed her voice, "Like I said weeks ago, this..." she spread her arms wide. "This is what she always wanted...and it looks like she's won." She shook her head from side to side, conveying her disgust. "Do you have my things?"

He pointed at the two bags sitting in front of the entry closet, "I was going to drop them by your apartment. You didn't have to make a trip."

Melissa turned and picked up the bags, she then looked at him, "She's got no heart Rick. Trust me! I know her type. She's just a cold-hearted bitch."

After she slammed the door, he just stood there, and spoke to the empty room, "Well that was ugly."

He heard the office door open, "You, OK Castle?"

He turned and gave a half smile.

"Well she seems to think Beckett and bitch have to be used in every sentence."

"You were listening?" Shaking his head.

"Just a little." She smiled slightly.

"Let's get back to work."

XX

"Gina, I'd like to skip this one if it's alright with you."

She didn't even look up, "When hell freezes over Rick."

"Not this week..." But before he could get another word out.

"No!" This time looking up at him. "It can be you and, what's her face, Ms. Page 6, the wedding buster, or I'll find someone to hang on your arm."

"Gina..." His tone full of impatient.

"Shut-up Rick. We're running a business here. This isn't a hobby for _us_. In case you forgot, there are tons of authors cranking out books, and whether you like it or not...you have to compete. We plant your face in front of the world, so they don't go read Patterson." She let out a huff and shook her head. "You getting this?"

"Yeah!"

"I don't care if it's your cop buddy or not. There will be someone beautiful on your arm. Do you understand?"

He gave-up. "What times the party?"

"Read your emails! I'm not writing them for fun. The car will pick you 6:30. We'll stop and get your date shortly thereafter. Figure it out! And let me know by tomorrow." She stood up headed for the door but before disappearing she turned, "Pleasure working with you." She shook her head again, "Tomorrow!"

"Yeah."

XX

It was late and he was back on the roof.

"Well Rick, haven't seen you for a week or so. How are things?"

"Why do I think you know how things are?"

"I did see that story about you and Detective Beckett. Quite a splash."

"Yeah, it sorta shook things up."

"That can be good or bad. Which was it?"

"The dust has settled, to some degree, and I'd say it's good."

"You sound…I don't know, unconvinced?"

"It's a new day, with the same me."

"Man oh man...you are getting smart."

"Actually I was thinking I sounded pretty cynical."

"I'd say you're being hard on yourself. But just because it didn't work with Melissa, doesn't mean it can't work. We have to learn to accept the dead-ends, the 'no's' in life. Usually they're as important as the green lights."

"What bothers me is I didn't see it."

"Think about it. You did see it. That's what held you back."

"And that's what has me shaking my head. I'm not sensing any inclination to...hold back."

"You mean with the Detective?"

"Yeah."

"From what you've said, there's something between you two."

"I feel that way. I just don't want any more mistakes."

The old man laughed. "Well you're going to be disappointed. Life is life, and it's full of mistakes. So buck-up!"

Now Castle laughed, "Just want to do it right this time."

"Let the heart lead, not the body. The one will keep promises forever, make commitments that last a lifetime...the body will just wear out. Lead with the heart, you'll be OK."

"You sound like a prude Gene!"

"Maybe. Or just a fool that learned the hard way. A lot of things have changed in the years I've been with Fran. Both of our bodies have gone to seed. And we enjoyed each other. Still do. But we live with limitations...we don't like. But there are a few things that have not changed."

"Such as?"

"The one constant, has been our love for each other. We may look like two old beat to death people. But the love I felt for her 50 plus years ago, was only the beginning. While my body has worn down, my love has increased. I've never met another woman that equals her. Yeah I've been faithful to her. But it's not that I'm such a great guy. There's just no one in the world I've ever met that compares to her."

"Wow...that's something you don't hear much anymore. But, why are you telling me this Gene?"

"I hope for your happiness Rick. Don't know if the cop is the one for you. If not, there's someone out there. You just have to do the work. But, pursue her with your heart and everything else will fall in place. In the end, which arrives much earlier than you plan, it all comes down to love."

Castle looked off at the horizon of lights and considered the old man's words.

XX

He fretted, knowing that he needed to talk to Beckett about the Black Pawn party. Gina had put him on a short leash. He'd tried all morning but without any luck. So he decided to get her away for a quick lunch. Before he went home for the day, he had started insisting on feeding her. He had always been concerned over how little she ate. But lately, he worried more and felt better if he filled her up before heading off to write.

For Beckett, she both appreciated and resented his concern. She was a grown woman and he was always fussing over her. Not a terrible thing. But she didn't want to end up fat. When he'd get her to eat, she usually insisted on a light lunch, and then listened to him complain.

"Why are we at a bird food place, again?"

She quipped, "Best salads in the world...bread to die for and a yogurt dessert with fruit. How good can it get?"

"A hamburger has salad, bread and fruit."

She just glared. "Fruit! Really?"

After the lunch he started complaining about his teeth. "I've got more junk in these then a chipmunk storing food for winter!"

Beckett turned and laughed at him, "Ya think? Between cilantro and the second blueberry dessert, I'd have have the same problem."

"You're not helping Beckett."

She pointed between the seats, "Grab a road buddy, in the console."

"A what?"

"Road buddy Castle. You know, a floss pic."

"That's a good idea."Then after a pause, "I thought I was your _road buddy_?"

"Do I look like someone who'd have a 'road buddy? If you hadn't eating like a horse, you wouldn't have all that junk in your teeth in the first place."

He ignored her and worked on his teeth. Finally he checked them in the rear-view mirror, "I feel much better Detective. Thank you."

Before she said anything he continued, "I need to talk to you."

"We are talking."

"I know but, something has come up at work."

"You mean the Twelfth?"

"No. With Black Pawn."

"And what's that?"

He looked out the window for another block of so, "Castle...what is it?"

"Black Pawn has a party in a couple of days. I have to go...I need a date."

"You want me...to go with you to a public event like that?"

"Yes I do...but no." He studied her face and she revealed nothing, "I want you with me, but not in the public arena so soon after the article. That means Gina will set up a date for me. And…"

She was quiet for a few beats, "Don't you honestly think that's best?"

"I...reluctantly do. I would really prefer to have you with me." He looked over at her as they sat a stop light. "But I want to protect you from the newspaper and TV hounds. At least for as long as possible."

"I appreciate that Castle. I prefer that." She swatted playfully at him, "Will she be arm candy?"

"More than likely."

"Well, I'm not worried no matter who she is."

"You shouldn't be. Why would I want arm candy...after Turkish Delight?"

"You're calling me Turkish Delight?"

"Yeah, you know...a little _Narnia_ lingo."

She just shook her head.

XX

Gina had done her job. The date, was an up and coming partner in one of the larger New York City brokerage houses. Her financial specialty was international bonds. Recently divorced and a friend of Gina's, she needed a night out, and Castle needed a date. It would work for both of them.

Castle was duly impressed. The discussions had been interesting and she was a wonderful dancer. About halfway through the evening his date asked, "So does your Detective friend approve of this?"

He smiled, "You've been reading the newspapers?"

"I read five papers a day. I know you're one of Gina's writer's, so news about you, always catches my eye."

"We'll you can't believe everything you read."

"That's true...but I have seen you make four calls tonight and your daughter is too old for a babysitter."

He smiled, "She's fine with the arrangement."

XX

By the end of the party, he had called her six times. He'd whined about how he wished she was with him and suggested he drop by to see her afterwards. She said "No." Something about it being to too late.

At 12:15 am he knocked on her door. It swung open and she pulled him in.

"It's a good thing you came by." Hugging him and planting her face against his neck.

"You OK?"

"No." Huffing a bit, "You smell like her!"

He smiled down at her, "Beckett! You have an incredible mean streak...and so territorial."

She pushed away and looked at him. He interpreted it as a glare. "Castle! That...was your last date."

He laughed and smiled at her, "What I'm becoming a monk?"

"No. Your dance card is full. From now on, it has only one name on it."

He flashed her with his best evil eye imitation, "And what name is that?"

Stepping forward, she grabbed his jacket and pulled him to herself. Then planted something between a kiss and bite on his lower lip. "Mine."

XX

He got home around 2:30 that morning. Their plan was to have a quiet Sunday afternoon together. Lay around and watch some movies, or a series on Netflixs. It didn't work out quite that way.

Castle arrived at her place at 11:30 with pastry, deli sandwiches and three different salads. She had laughed at the size of the two bags. "Castle, it looks like your preparing for a Northeastern...in August?"

"Hey, I didn't want you to go hungry."

"Well I think we're safe on that account."

Shortly after noon her phone rang. There has been a murder and a second shooting had just been reported. They headed for the Twelfth and spent the rest of the day working on the new cases.

At midnight, he told Beckett he had to run. He had a flight at 9:00 am. He'd be gone Monday and part of Tuesday for Black Pawn business in Boston. He'd return on Tuesday afternoon.

At 2:00 am Beckett crashed on the sofa in the break-room. The boys were taking desk-naps.

At 6:00 am they all groaned awake and dove-in for what would be another full day. The second shooting vic ended up being related to the first. There were lots of leads to follow and calls to make.

Beckett checked in with the ME and received reports that were pretty much as expected. Lanie had done a quick look at the bullets she'd pulled from each vic, and she suspected they came from the same gun. They'd have to wait on ballistics to be certain.

Monday had been a whirlwind. At midnight, after speaking to Castle, she again crashed in the break-room.

At 5:00 am she showered and changed her clothes, using her last back-up set.

By three that afternoon they had not made a lot of progress. Everyone was exhausted. So all agreed if nothing popped, they'd call it a day at 5. Then hit it again on Wednesday.

The only bright spot in this nearly three day grind, was dinner with Castle, now only a few hours away.

XX

Some of the Monday papers had run the story of Castle with the Bond Broker. Page 6 had a small by-line, but were sticking with their earlier story.

Demming had read the article and boiled. He didn't like Castle and didn't think Castle cared anything about Beckett. He considered her 'star struck.' Still he knew she was very smart and would put it all together. He decided he needed to talk with her.

She recognized his cologne immediately. He'd told her that an uncle had worn it and gave him a bottle as a teenager. He always loved it.

When the scent of _Elsha_ drifted across her desk, she looked up into the serious eyes of Tom Demming. "Hey Tom, what brings you by?"

"Do you have a couple of minutes for a cup of coffee?" Pointing at the break room. "I understand you guys have been going at it hard for more than two days."

"Sure."

After she handed him a cup she asked, "What's up Tom?"

He looked down for a couple of beats. "I'm not happy about the way we ended Kate. I wanted to tell you I'm sorry if...if I misspoke." Another pause and further studying of his coffee, "I miss you Kate."

She was tired. She really did not want to do this. But she hadn't wanted to work for two and a half days solid either. "Tom...like I told you, it's not you. It's me."

"Kate I'm offering you…" He turned to make sure no one was near enough to hear, "Love, a home, a life together...even a family if you wanted that. Can't we fix this?"

"Tom…"

"Kate he's not the one for you. I see he's off after a new girl...already. He's not worth your time. You deserve so much more."

She pondered over how to respond, but before she found the words, he went on. "I know I'm only a cop. But Kate...it's who we are. The writer is just a passing thing. He'll get bored and move on. I don't want that to happen to you. Not to us."

She stood and closed the break-room door. She turned to face him, and tried to explain, again. Within five minutes, it was clear they were not going to be a couple again.

After he left she sat for a few minutes and smoldered. She wanted to scream. The case sucked. The conversation sucked. And she was exhausted. She thought about calling Castle and just heading home. But in the end, decided to go to dinner.

XX

She was a few minutes late in arriving. He watched as she entered the restaurant. She was tense, back stiff and shoulders pulled back. A tight mask covered her face. She smiled when she saw him. He thought she had quickly shucked off the day. He was wrong.

"Hey Castle."

He stood and and kissed her cheek, "Hey Beckett, you looked pretty serious coming in a moment ago."

"This day sucked. All dead ends and Montgomery biting at us after 1PP bit at him."

By the end of the meal she seemed almost normal. They chatted about his trip and his quick lunch with Alexis. "She always makes me laugh."

"Why's that?"

"She just seems to see through me." He let out a small laugh, "Seems to read things about my life, before they're even on my horizon."

"Like a palm reader?"

"No, not like that. She seems to read my heart. She knew about you long before I did."

"What do you mean, she knew about me, long before you did?"

"She told me she thought we just clicked."

"When was this?"

"A month or so ago, but she said she knew it by the second time she met you."

"Interesting." Beckett stared out the window.

"Do you want kids?" He looked out trying to follow her line of sight. When she didn't answer he looked back at her. He was taken back by the line of her jaw and what appeared to him as anger. Tentatively he asked, "Are you OK?"

When she spoke her voice was hard, like she used on a suspect in the interrogation room, "What, to define who I am? Do I need to get married too?" Her word were a blow. He had seen her do this at work, but never had she lashed out at him. He decided to remain silent, trying to mask the blow with a neutral face.

"What Castle, cat got your tongue?"

He still did not respond, just looked steadily at her. But his gut was in a free fall, like the cables that held him together had just broken and the floor beneath him was gone. He was assaulted by an old fear, his own self doubt. What had he missed? A how had he missed it?

"Have I told you I hate that question from a man?" Words sharply edged. "The barefoot and pregnant picture, it's just BS."

She could not be more wrong about him. He never thought of a woman's place as making babies and sitting home changing diapers. He had a daughter. He wanted every opportunity for her that he'd ever has a man, and more. No glass ceilings, no second class citizenship for Alexis.

"Castle I'm waiting for your 'manly' words."

But Alexis had changed his world, from the first moment he laid eyes on her, right through lunch today. He figured a kid was a kid, and then she arrived. Storming into his life, changing his dreams, and he was so happy for it.

When he spoke his words were soft. She had to lean forward to hear them and he did not look at her. His eyes had moved outside to some spot and held. "I love my daughter more than anything in this world. She has overwhelmed me, pushed the childish and selfish me out of our house."

He paused but did not look at Beckett. "We can be bestsellers. Get awards and amass fortunes. But there is no magic in any of that. My unexpected joy, Alexis, was given to me from a terrible relationship. The woman, who didn't even love me, took our genetics and wove them into Alexis. Meredith was never defined by Alexis, I wonder at times if she even loves her daughter."

This time Beckett was quite. She said nothing and he continued, "To me, a mere male, women are at the top of the pyramid. The crown of creation. We men can only hope that one of them will love us. Take us in, and 'magic us' a child."

"It's not magic Castle, it's biology."

"Fine Beckett," a hint of anger tinting his voice. "What if I just said I'd like to connect plumbing with you. Does that work?"

She glared, "A little crass for me Castle."

"Yes and no, it is just plumbing. Mere sex. But intimacy is so much more. It's more magic. Things far beyond biology...two people pouring themselves into one another...and if it's the real deal...if love is the driving force...it's beyond biology...and words..."

She was silent, and read the sadness and hurt in his eyes, "Castle." For the first time since her outburst, her voice turned soft. But it was too late.

He stood and pulled out his wallet. Without even looking at her, he placed a wad of bills on the table, and mumbled, "This should cover it." And walked out.


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you for reading and all your wonderful comments.

The mistakes are my own.

* * *

 **The Interview**

 **Chapter 15**

It had been 48 hours since their disastrous dinner on Tuesday night. The silence that had stilled him through most of her monologue, now had its grip on her. She ached at his absence. She'd told him she wanted him forever. Would that be only on his terms? Could she not speak her mind? Demming had tried the kids and marriage thing on her, and how had that worked out? But there was a difference. Demming had no children. Castle on the other hand had a vibrant, wonderful daughter and her place in his heart was clear to all. While she had rebuffed Demming's ideal life, she had inexcusably belittled Castle's long road as a single parent. Even taunted him over his concept of love. She hadn't stopped to think about the high price of his failed marriages before she let loose. There was no doubt that he would do it all again for his daughter. She had discounted things for which she did not understand. She had ranted in defense of personal autonomy. If she was so right about all these things, why was she so miserable?

XX

For Castle, there was no sleep after the meal with Beckett. He was pierced by loneliness and his own foolishness. He argued with himself about how he could be so stupid. About his inability to make good choices. His inability to accurately see people, for who they were. He'd dated a many women and most had one thing in common. They saw his daughter as 'cute' at the beginning and then, would start floating questions about her role in their relationship. It resulted in the immediate death of any wonder between he and the person. The relationships normally died and could not be resuscitated. He accepted that in only a few years Alexis would move on with her own life, but it wasn't here yet. He knew he would have to find a new world to inhabit once she was gone. He'd hoped he was on course for that world with Melissa. But then he offered a dozen or so words on a TV show and his life changed.

The Twelfth has been a lesson in discipline by the Mayor. Then there was Beckett. An unforeseen and initially unnoticed force. She had single-handedly dashed his plans with Melissa. She wooed him like a breeze filled with hope, reminding him of some forgotten dream. Then she pushed him over the edge with a kiss and a declaration of wanting him forever in her life. A strong, assertive pledge, which like undertow pulled his heart away. But had it just been a game? A Beckett versus Melissa match, with him as the prize. Did Beckett simply want the ultimate win over the public defender, both in an out of the court room? Had he allowed himself to be played? Had he been a willing victim?

He rolled over and looked at the clock. It was 4:35 am. Get up? No, he'd try one more time to find a comfortable spot in this prison of a bed.

At 9:15 am he was startled by the phone ringing. It turned out to simply be a mail delivery that needed his signature. Could the door man send up the driver, of just sign? Castle chose the later. He would get the mail later.

He stewed over coffee. Though not hungry the toaster signaled the bagel was ready. He found himself chewing mechanically, until he bit the side of his mouth. He growled to an empty loft, "Oww...man that hurts." Tossing the remainder into the sink.

Refilling his cup he made his way to the sofa and settled in. He started with a review of his dark thoughts from the night before. Mulling again the idea that he had been played, he re-visited the time-line of events since beginning with the Twelfth.

When he went to sip his coffee he was surprised at how cold it had gotten. He frowned and set it aside. Sliding back into his thoughts. He had not suggested marriage or children to Beckett. But had simply expressed his joy over his time with his daughter at lunch. Marriage was not on his mind, at all. He was still paying off the wedding plans he had just canceled. But Beckett had chosen to set him straight. To clarify 'his role' in her life. Making absolutely clear her intended path. She wanted no obstacles. No baggage of babies or a needy husband. Her undefined proclamation of 'forever' was a complete mystery to him.

Castle thought about an interview he had watched with an aging singer. She mused that she had forgone all the confines of marriage and children, instead focusing on her creative path. But now she looked worn out. Just like everyone else. Her music had been lost in a sea of newer artists. Her fan base fading and dying. He thought again of Alexis and her dancing bright eyes. She was better than any book he'd ever written or dollar he'd ever earned. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, he possessed he would not exchange for the gift of her.

During a late lunch he decided he could do nothing about Beckett. He needed to shut-up and let her words sink in. Let them settle into his heart and see what happened. She had banished him to an undefined place. He would wait for the hurt to recede and then revisit it again, with a clearer head. He had misunderstood and had no idea what anything between them even meant.

XX

On Friday morning she called her dad.

"Katie, we still on for tomorrow?"

"We are," she paused, "Can I bring some sandwiches to your place. If that's OK?"

"Our course its OK, but its out of your way and I don't want to waste your day off."

"I'd prefer to come to you."

"Sounds good."

"Thanks Dad, I'll see you by noon."

XX

The stretch of silence had now grown to three days. She fought to not look when the elevator would ring. She gave up on coffee miraculously appearing on her desk. They were finishing up the double shootings cases. He had only been involved on Sunday, then Tuesday's mess had happened. With no new bodies dropping, there was no reason for him to come by. But she prayed he would.

To drive off the oppressive misery. She put her head down, and forged on.

XX

Jim Beckett watched as his daughter walked up the steps to his house. It seemed to him that her shoulders were drooping, there was none of the usual bounce in her step. He guessed something was weighing on her. He had learned to read his little girl who, although was now a grown woman, still express her emotional pain in the same way. She did not come out to visit that often. Another sign that something was amiss.

She sat down the bag and greeted him with a hug. "They had chicken noodle soup, I couldn't resist. If it's too much you can save your sandwich for later."

"I doubt that, I'm really hungry today. Sandwich and some soup sounds great."

He watched as she busied herself making the simple preparations. When she finished he was still leaning against the kitchen counter. He called to her softly, "Katie...come here."

She sat the last item down and walked over to his extended arms. He pulled her in, "What is it my love?"

He could feel the shuddering as she began to cry. He said nothing, letting the tears run their course. After a couple of minutes she stood up straight and wiped away the moisture. He handed her a tissue. "How did you know?"

He offered a sympathetic smile, "I could tell when you walked up the steps. So tell me...what's wrong?"

She had sat at the small table and looked down at her hands, "Its me Dad. I'm such a fool."

"No Katie, I cannot suffer fools, and I've seen far too many. But this I know, you my dear are not a fool." He paused for a second. "This must be about your friend?"

Silence.

Then, "We had a fight. I was tired. No exhausted. Tom had come by work...told me he was offering me everything...love, a home, children." She paused again and sniffled, "Said Castle was a flake and a woman chaser, that I'd end up hurt..."

Although she stopped speaking, the words had gushed out. He knew there was more to come.

"I met Castle a couple of hours later for dinner. He was talking about his daughter and asked if I wanted kids." She groaned as she re-ran the scene in her head, "I...I freaked and went off on him."

"What did he say?"

She shook her head and then placed it in her hands, elbows on the table. "That he thought women were the crown of creation...that if they loved a man...they could magic him a child..."Again she paused and looked up at her father, "He said Alexis was more than he ever dreamed..." The words stopped but fresh tears began to run.

He gave her a moment, "And?"

"I was not kind Dad...finally he just...put some money on the table for the dinner, and walked out."

"Are you serious enough to talk about kids?"

She let out small laugh, "No, it was just a comment...he'd had lunch with his daughter, and..."

Again he gave her time. Her head ended up back in her hands and then she looked up, more errant tears running down her cheek, "I just want to fix it Dad."

"Have you called him?"

"I sent him a text and asked him if we could talk...he didn't respond."

"Maybe you should go see him."

She shook her head, "If he won't respond to my text...I'm don't think I should go by."

"Katie, how badly do you want this fixed?"

She just starred at her dad, not even attending to her tears, "Dad...I have been so miserable this week...I didn't even know I could feel this bad."

The senior Beckett walked over to his daughter, placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed the top of her head, "Love can do that to us Katie."

XX

It had been a terrible week at the Castle's loft. Alexis had not seen her father this upset, ever. He could be terrible in his writing slumps, but normally she could break through even those dark days. But not this week.

He had been writing a lot lately and she attributed that to Detective Beckett. She seemed to be able to fan his imagination and the want to write. Thru the years Alexis had added a keyboards light patter to the background sounds of her home. She found it comforting, like the ticking of an old clock.

It was Saturday morning and she watched her father as he sat at his desk. The keys were not moving. In fact they had been silent since he returned from his trip on Tuesday. And he too had been equally quiet.

"Dad, what would you like for breakfast?"

He hadn't seen her in the kitchen and looked up at the sound of her voice. "Hey Pumpkin. I had some fruit and coffee earlier, I'm good."

She walked into his office and plopped onto his sofa. "Dad! There's half of a banana peel on the counter, and the pot of coffee looks like it hasn't been touched."

"Sweetie, I'm...I'm just not hungry."

She studied her cup of hot chocolate. He returned his stare to the monitor in front of him. After a few minutes she spoke.

"Dad, where is she?"

His face was blank, "Where is who Alexis?"

"Why are you doing this to yourself? Why don't you call her Dad?"

"Pumpkin...it's complicated. I..."

"You what? You're acting like someone died. Whatever it is, you need to fix it. You _need_ to talk to her."

"Alexis, she doesn't want to talk to me..."

"Look me at me Dad and tell me she hasn't called or even sent you a text once this week."

He said nothing, instead he stared off into the other room.

She huffed, "So you won't talk to her?"

"Alexis, I'm not ready to talk to her."

"You know Dad, if I acted like this...you'd ground me for a month."

He let out a weak laugh at that, "I've never grounded you once in your life."

"Well, if I was doing what you're doing. I'd be so grounded." She stood up, shook her head and walked out.

XX

At 1:45 on Sunday afternoon the call came in. A store owner had been gunned down. The early reports from the uniforms suggested nothing had been taken from his shop. So this was not likely a robbery gone bad.

"Beckett, you gonna let Castle know about this one?" He looked at her with fifty more unspoken questions in his eyes.

"Yeah Espo, I'll buzz him." She diverted her eyes from the piercing look on her partners face.

They had teased her on Wednesday about his absence, but her mood thereafter had chilled the bull pen. There was no more talk of Castle on Thursday and both men steered clear of their boss.

She hit his contact and texted: _We have a body at..._ she ended with _, you coming?_

It took nearly 10 minutes for his response, which was a single word: _Ye_ s. It was unusual for him. Normally he would call with twenty questions and she would just tell him to get there. She held her breath over the pending encounter.

XX

The store owner was a man in his late 30's. He had been shot through both hands, then a shot in the groin and finally a _coup de gra_ to the head. The last shot was delivered as he lay on the ground.

She felt his presence before he even spoke. She felt her heart begin to race. She had to pretend she was unaware of him. Finally she took a breath and feigned surprise, "Hey Castle."

"What's up Beckett?" Looking at her and then to the scene around the dead man.

His eyes were neutral, his voice sounded like he was reading a weather forecast. When she was in the zone, full detective mode, there was hardly anything that could distract her. But this was one of the exceptions. The surge of emotion was overwhelming. She fought to contain herself, wanting to cry at his coldness. Fighting the sting of tears as she pushed them back. She was saved by Ryan.

"Hey Castle, you lose our address? Haven't seen you for a few."

His answer was light and warm to the man, "Trying to get some work done. Remember my main character died...miles to go before my next paycheck."

Esposito jumped in, "You mean you killed him. That's on you, man."

"There are some endings you can't avoid!" After a slight pause, he added, "His time was up."

She felt she had been struck twice by his words in less than a minute. First wondering if the character he was referring to was her, or Derrick Storm. Then the unavoidable endings jab. Did he think they were done? That she was done with him? Ignoring the thoughts, she divvied up the work among her team. Then she turned to Castle, "Lets go talk to the victims wife, see what we can find out."

"Sounds good." He turned and said something to Espo, and then followed her to the cruiser.

As they drove to the victim's address he said nothing. The silence was oppressive. He fiddled with his phone and simply ignored her. When she couldn't take it any more she decided to be the one to break the ice, "Haven't heard from you this week. Everything OK?"

"Yeah," His tone light, but distant, "Just doing some writing."

"That's good then, right,"

"It is. It's the only way I have to live."

"I think you've done real well Castle."

"Well, yesterdays successes are just that, yesterday. I need to get on with the work. Don't want the fans to forget about me."

She felt raw by the statement. Was her really talking about them? "No one is going to forget you."

He didn't respond and within a few minutes they were at the curb of the house. "Do you want me to wait here?"

She was surprised, hurt and then angered by his question. When she spoke her tone was more harsh than she intended,"No Castle! I didn't bring you along to sit in the damn car." She flung open her door and headed to the house. Again she felt him beside her, but said nothing.

After the odious duty of telling the woman her husband was dead, Beckett gently probed about the couples relationship. Hoping for a clue.

To Castle, Beckett seemed all edges. Her questions were off, and the woman was frustrated. He decided to try. "Ma'am sometimes you see, or sense something in those you're close to, is just off. Like there's a door that you didn't know about. A part of them that has been held back or shielded from your sight. Does that make sense?"

The woman sniffled and a small sob escaped, "It does. Robert seemed unfocused with me...at least in the last six months. I thought it was work. One day I thought he loved me, and then there was this, other him. I was baffled, prayed that he wasn't leaving me for another woman." This time she started to shake. She stood and wrapped her arms around her own waist, like she was trying to fend off the cold. "And now he's gone, forever."

XX

After they left the victims wife, Beckett drove two blocks, pulled to the curb and turned off the car.

"What are you doing?" Castle asked, looking up from his phone.

She turned and faced him, "Please Castle, talk to me."

"What Beckett? I think we got what we needed from the vic's wife. Something was amiss. He was hiding something from her, we just need to figure out what it was..."

"You haven't called me all week. You didn't respond to my text. I haven't seen you since Tuesday and the last words you spoke to me were about the bill for dinner."

He hesitated, "I'm...I'm not sure what you want me to say. I misunderstood you...misunderstood us..." He was interrupted by her cell phone.

She looked at it and swiped, "Beckett." She listened, "Castle and I just left the wife, she thought something was off for the last few months." After more listening, "Yes sir, we'll head back."

"Montgomery?"

"Yeah, they have video from a couple of cams near the store. They think it might show a male leaving about the TOD, based on the ME's estimate."

She put her seat belt on and started the car, then turned it off. She looked straight ahead for a half minute. Then turned and looked at him. "Please let me explain my...my outburst before you decide anything."

"OK." He then just stared out the window.

The remainder of the drive to the Twelfth was in silence.

XX

It was 8:45 when they decided to stop for the night. The video had been of very low quality. The face of the man exiting the shop was not clear. He had on a T-shirt was some short of logo, but it was unreadable. Maybe the techs could cook it and come up with something, but not today. The next step would be to do an extensive canvas of the neighbors. The first run had not yielded much information. The next one would be based on specific time frames. They would try to pinpoint where potential witnesses would have been. It would be a day of door-to-door interviewing.

As the boys exited Beckett looked at Castle, his head was down as he read something on his phone.

"Are you hungry?" She tried to be nonchalant in the asking.

He shook his head, "Not really."

"Would you come with me to get drink."

He sighed, "It's...its getting late Beckett!"

"Castle, please, just give me a half-an-hour."

"Where?"

"Did you drive or take a cab it today?

"Cab."

"Let's walk. McClary's isn't far."

XX

They walked in silence for the first block, then she moved in front of him turned and blocked his path. He stopped and glanced down at her, then away. But remained still.

"Castle look at me?" He looked down at her, but his eyes were guarded.

She put her hand on his arm, "I'm sorry for ranting like I did." She waited but he didn't respond.

"Castle, _talk_ to me."

"Beckett you have a right to your opinion. You don't need to apologize to me for what you believe. You're your own person. I can accept that."

"Why do I see contempt in your eyes then?"

"I told you weeks ago, I...I don't seem to be able to read people very well." He paused and looked off into the night sky, "But time...time lets us get to the heart of a person."

She shook her head, "By the look on your face, that's not good."

"We are who we are Beckett. It takes time to reveal that to others."

"If you're trying to make me feel better, it's not working."

"I'm not trying to make you feel anything. I'm trying to explain."

"You use to be happy to see me. But today...it seems you're...just tolerating me."

He shook his head, "Let's go in and sit down. Get that drink."

XX

They had sat for ten minutes, sipped at their drinks. The talk returned to just, small talk. Something about the case, and how things had popped up. How evidence might fall into place. He bounced a theory off her about the motivation of the killer. She smiled and thought about how bright his presence at the Twelfth was for her. In a fairly short period of time, she'd come to thoroughly enjoy having him around. She wanted it to never end. But she wanted more and the foreboding sense of loss crept back in.

Castle picked up on the clouds in her expression, "What? Is it that far out of an idea?"

"No. No your idea is worth considering."

"So why the frown?'

"It's what you're not saying."

"Beckett, I'm not holding back, not hiding some secret."

"That's not how it feels."

"I'm not sure how to respond. How what feels?"

"Castle we've worked together for months now...I've always felt you were open...approachable. But not anymore. There's a restraint, almost a coldness." She looked down at the table and played with her napkin.

"Tell me what I'm not open to Beckett?"

She did not look up, "Me."

"I am open to you. You're friendship is very important to me Beckett."

"You know that's not what I'm talking about."

"I'm sorry if I misled you."

"You didn't mislead me! You wanted me! And now you don't."

He didn't respond at first. "I mistakenly burdened you with my own thinking. Projected my values...my views onto you. Imagined you in a way...I wanted you to be." Shaking his head, "Not you, as who you are...and that was wrong of me. It's all on me, not you. I'm sorry I did that. It was not to hurt you."

"What is wrong with me Castle?"

"Nothing is wrong with you. We are from vastly different worlds. I don't think either of us can make our way to the other."

"What?" She gasped, "Castle does that mean?"

"If you asked me, what defines me? It is easy for me to answer...I'm a Father. My life is centered on that job. It is not a burden...it's just who I am."

"We'll you're right, I can't become a father." Her voice tainted with edge.

He sighed, "Again" He looked down at the table, "I misspoke. I'm a parent."

"So all this is about me blowing off steam...not wanting to have a child, not marrying?"

"Kate, you're fine. You're beautiful...smart, climbing the career of your choice. You have nothing to defend."

"You told me awhile ago that it had been twenty-six days since you kissed me. And now you're kissing me off."

"I'm not kissing you off."

"Rick, you haven't held my hand...you don't even put your arm around me...even though it's cold outside." She looked away, then back at him, "You haven't kissed in nearly a week."

He looked at her, then away and finally back, "Do you know why single parents remain single for so long?" Before she could answer he continued, "Because of their kids. The truth is, few people are interested in someone else's kids. They're seen as excess baggage."

"Castle I don't see kids as excess baggage."

"Fine. How many guys have you dated who had kids?"

She didn't answer and just sat in silence.

He pressed on, "Exactly. That's probably a choice...and a choice you have a right to make." He looked at her intently, "It's not a choice for me Beckett."

"You misunderstood my outburst last week-end."

"No, I didn't. I understood you perfectly."

"I wasn't talking to you Castle!"

"What?" His look incredulous. "What does that mean? We were the only ones there." Still staring with puzzlement.

"Demming! It was really Demming."

"I don't understand."

"Before we broke up. We'd argued for months...over settling down, marriage, kids, the whole nine-yards."

"Whats that got to do with me?"

"He came by just before you and I met for dinner and gave me the same speech. Told me you were a womanizer and off chasing someone new. He saw the story about you and the broker at the Black Pawn thing. Said he and I were cops...that's all...not famous and not rich. That I could have it all...with him." She looked at him with pleading eyes. "You got...a re-run...but it wasn't about you."

It was now his turn to be still.

When he said nothing, she continued. "When I was on vacation, before you came to the Twelfth, we had a big blow-out over commitment, taking the next step. As well as marriage...it was the final straw for me. He felt he had to push, I didn't like it, on a bunch of levels and, I pushed back. It was not a single conversation. But something that came up over and over. It tore us apart. Or torn me apart."

Castle looked at her, but now with both sorrow and sympathy. "Are you sure you haven't found the life you want. The reason those things have no attraction to you...is that you're satisfied? That's a good thing. Isn't it?"

"I thought I was satisfied, I thought I was where I needed to be. Demming's pushing reminded me of what I didn't want, didn't have any need for, but..."

He leaned forward, "But what Beckett?"

"Things changed."

"So on some level you think of me, as Demming?"

"No, Not at all."

"Am I being dense here Kate?"

She shook her head, "No, I'm not saying this well." Taking a deep breath she started again. "When you asked about having a child I was suddenly back in the discussion with Demming. Trying to defend my independence and self worth, but again, not addressing the _real_ issue."

"What is the real issue?"

"He was saying, _if_ we marry, _if_ we have get a house, have some kids, we'll build a future, we'd build a home for us."

"Okay?" The word stretched conveying his unresolved confusion.

"What he wanted and what he was saying, was anachronistic...the order was wrong."

"How so?" His shoulders relaxed, reflecting his engagement in her train of thought.

"For me, you don't do all those things to build a home." She let out a small laugh. "I hate cliched phrases. But...anyway, the old saying that, 'Home is where the heart is,' was the problem. I think you find a home with someone. It's not by marriage, or getting a house and having kids. The home in me will be there when I find the right one...I didn't have a home in Tom."

Castle sat and stared at her, his eyes wide, shinning with emotion. She spoke first, "Castle?" Stretching his name out.

"I never thought of it that way. You are so beyond me Beckett. I hope you find that."

"Castle, you still don't get it do you?"

"I understand why your relationship failed...and that you figured it out. You're looking for that person who will be your home. Everything else will work its way out."

"I'm _not_ looking Castle."

"Beckett, I understand that choice. I really do, it's just not time for you yet."

"No! No Rick." She grabbed his hands, "I'm not looking because I found my home...I know where is, and who it is with. It's with you."

She looked at the puzzled expression on face disappear as the reality of what she had said sunk in. He smiled. Truly smiled for the first time in days. Then pulled up her hands and kissed them.

She watched him continue to uncoil. She thought she could see the sorrow roll away as his smile broadened. She pulled gently on his hands, "Come over here and sit with me. I need you closer."

He moved quickly and slid in beside her. She pulled at his arm, pulled him against herself. When he was close she laid her head on his shoulder. "This has been one of the worst weeks of my life. I have missed you _so_ badly...I thought I...please don't ever withdraw from me again. Fight with me. Yell at me. But don't go away. I cannot stand it! Please."

"It has not been easy for me either. You really sent me into a spin. I thought I had misunderstood and..."

"Hush Castle." Her fingers against his lips, "Kiss me, pay the bill...and lets get out of here."

XX

The universe granted them the next three days, before he was off to Chicago at the behest of Gina. He was to sign books in stores around the Windy City. But for now, they were in the eye of the storm, and had time to calm, to comfort one another. It was, the best of times.


	16. Chapter 16

**The Interview**

 **Chapter 16**

His plane departed at 10:30 in the morning and arrived in Chicago around noon. He'd picked up an hour due to the different time-zones so it took some of the pressure off. The plan was to have two signings at each store. Gina had taken care of the details. They stores included the best in Chicago; Anderson's, Quimby's, Centuries & Sleuths and his final signing at Powell's on Sunday at noon. Castle liked meeting with his fans, they were what gave life to his writing. But being away from his daughter, the loft and Manhattan was never very pleasant to him. Hotel rooms were all the same, no matter how much they cost.

After he and Kate has smoothed things out on Sunday and then had a few days together he was not excited about being away. Not a great time for an interruption. He recalled his last disagreement with Gina, over the Black Pawn party and decided further discussion was pointless. This was his part of his job and he needed to focus on the tour.

XX

She had not been able to go to the airport with him. There was work to do and they'd said their good-byes at dinner the night before. But as she settled into work on Thursday morning, she was confronted a with stifling funk. Which perplexed her. Her blue mood was interrupted at 8:45 when the cup of coffee was placed on her desk.

She smiled before she even looked up, and the let out a quick, "Castle, you're going to…." But didn't finish the sentence.

"Good morning Detective Beckett. Mr. Castle called and asked us to deliver this coffee and these pastries." He sat a small pink bakery box in front of her. "He asked us to deliver it between 8:00 and 8:30 am...I'm sorry I'm late, we've have been so busy."

"I didn't know you guys delivered?"

"We don't, but Mr. Castle...anyway we made an exception for him."

"And what did he pay you to do this?"

The young man smiled and pulled a note from his pocket, "In case you asked, he said to tell you. 'A gift is a gift and it is impolite for the recipient to ask the cost."

"Did he? You know I'm a homicide detective." Waving her arm like a wand to turn the delivery man's attention to the pool of police desks.

The young man laughed and looked down at his note, "He said to say, 'Shame on you if you said that."

Kate let out a laugh, which was louder than she intended. She reached for her purse to get the kid a tip. But stopped and looked up again. He was smiling again. "Let me guess. He said, my money's no good?"

"He did."

XX

After he left she took a sip of the hot liquid, it tasted wonderful. She pulled out her phone and sent him her third text of the day.

It was short. _My money is no good? Thx Castle._

The immediate response was: _Yes! And you're welcome._

 _Seriously, thank you so much. KB_

Within a minute he responded. _I know a woman has needs. Didn't want you to forget me. RC_

She laughed and responded. _Then thank you for meeting my needs. But you're not completely off the hook on that count. No chance you'll be forgotten. Let me know when you get to Chicago. KB_

She sat, looking at the cup of coffee, the pasty bag and the phone. They all symbolized the same thing. Castle. She would have never guessed, never believed she could be so sappy.

As she drank and nibbled she returned to her early thoughts. She wondered at herself. This Kate Beckett. She was an incarnation of someone she didn't even know.

As a detective there had been many homicides they'd investigated. So many, where love was discarded, even unrequited. Then the beauty of love was twisted to hate and the killer rationalized that death was the only solution. She'd stood before the murder board and asked, "How could somebody do this?" She'd heard each member of her team express the same sentiment. Now she was heading into the world of lovers. She too would be subject to this most powerful of emotions, but she found herself welcoming it with open arms.

Her thoughts turned to the many crazy stories about love and how people acted. And how she, along with the rest of the world, shook their heads wondering how a rational person could be so stupid. In the end it came down to the power of love turning someone into a completely different person. She thought of the acronym, DUI, for driving under the influence and decided on a new one for love. LUI, living under the influence.

Again she was swamped the reality of 'them," her and Castle. Not what she expected. It dawned on her that she was in a place she'd never been before. For the first time in her live, she was honestly in love.

XX

It was Friday, and she couldn't wait for until five o'clock to get there and hoping a call a wouldn't change that. At four-twenty her phone rang and she winced, she didn't recognize the number. She offered her usual greeting, "Beckett."

"Detective?" The voice paused and to Beckett it sounded like a young person. "Detective...this is Alexis Castle."

Before his daughter could say another word, Beckett blurted out, "Alexis are you OK?"

Her voice still tentative, "Yes, I'm fine! I...I just wanted to ask you something."

Beckett had sat up straight. Alexis had never called her before. "I'm sorry Alexis. I didn't mean to sound so worried. It's just, I know your Dad is out of town and...anyway what's up?"

The younger Castle was still holding back, but then she went on, "I...I was wondering if you would have time for lunch tomorrow. I know it's Saturday and I don't…."

"Of course I have time. What works for you?"

"Is 11:30 OK?" But before Beckett could even answer she added, "Honestly Detective, I know this is late to ask and if you have something else...it's OK."

"Alexis...11:30 is great."

They picked a restaurant and ended the call.

XX

Castle had called Beckett at 8:30 that evening, following his dinner. He filled her in on his day. The book signings had gone longer than expected. He explained he didn't want to turn a single fan away. But he was exhausted.

Beckett filled him in on her day as well, except about her up coming lunch date with his daughter. She figured the girls could have some secrets.

"So you going to see your Dad tomorrow for lunch?"

"You bet." She laughed and added, "I'm a good girl Castle."

"Really?" Lacing the response with an inquisitive tone.

"What? You don't think I'm good?"

He paused for a moment, a gave a clipped response, "No!"

"Fine." Trying to convey her offense.

Then his tone filled with warmth, "Good is too weak. I think you're wonderful."

She said nothing.

Sounding slightly concerned, "Beckett are you there?"

Her voice was thick with emotion, "Why do you do that to me?"

"Because you're are wonderful Kate. Don't ever forget it."

XX

Alexis arrived a few minutes early for her lunch date. They had been around each other after the party and when Kate was over working with her father in the evenings. Still she was nervous about this. She'd never called one of her fathers girlfriend's and asked them out to lunch. Even during the time he and Melissa were together, they'd never met alone.

But Detective Beckett was different. Her dad was different both around her, and without her. Alexis didn't know what had happened the week before, but she had never seen her father so upset. She was actually worried. It was really two things. How down he'd been during their disagreement. And how crazy happy he was once they worked whatever it was out. It was at that point that Alexis hoped they could talk, without her father interrupting. When his trip to Chicago came up, she thought this would be a good opportunity.

She was still nervous.

XX

Beckett had called her dad and told him she wanted to meet but something had come up. She suggested 2:30 and he said it would be fine.

As she walked into the restaurant she was surprised how edgy she felt. She had talked to Alexis on a number of occasions. So why did this feel so different? She had even had dinner at the loft with the whole family a couple of times in the last few weeks.

But the last seven days had been a whirlwind. On Saturday she was crying on her dad's shoulder but by Sunday evening she and Castle had gotten through the mess. They'd worked together for three days and then he headed off to Chicago. He called, texted and sent her coffee on both Thursday and Friday. Things were good. And now she was having lunch with his daughter. A lot of ground in just a week.

A perky greeter was at the entry queue, "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm meeting someone for lunch."

"Would you like to look around?"

"She's tall thin girl, with beautiful red-hair."

"Oh yes, she's right around that corner." Pointing Beckett in the direction.

"Hey Alexis, how you?"

"I'm good Detective. Thank you for coming."

As she sat down at the table for two she lowered her voice, "Alexis, you have to call me Kate." Then she shook her head slightly, "Most people don't want to eat in a restaurant with a cop too near."

Alexis laughed, "I never thought about that."

"That's OK. But seriously Kate will do just fine."

"OK. I'll try."

The younger Castle went silent. Beckett discerned she was struggling over how to start the conversation. "Alexis to what do I owe this honor?"

The girl let out a small laugh, "I just wanted to talk to you about my Dad. He always worries me."

Beckett smiled over both her honestly and her sincere concern for her father. "What worries you about him."

Alexis studied her hands after the question, and then in a barely audible voice, "Lots of things. But now...you."

"Ladies what can I get you today?" The waitress looked at the expressions on her two customers and decided to retreat. "I see you don't even have water yet. I'll give you a few minutes and I'll be back." Then she was gone.

"Why do I worry you Alexis?"

"It's not that you worry me. I mean, I don't think you're a bad influence or a bad person...nothing like that. It's just...you really seem to blow my Dad away."

Beckett waited, not sure what to say. Then Alexis added, "I wanted to start at the beginning, but let me start at the end."

"What end?"

"What I mean is last week."

Beckett groaned, "Oh! Not a good week."

"Detec…Kate it was so hard on him. I had to yell at him. I hate to see him so down."

"I don't know what to say, or what I should say. I misspoke and really upset your Dad. It was not my intent. I've told him I'm sorry...and I'll tell you the same." Now Beckett played with her napkin, "Your Father is a kind and sensitive man." She reached out and touched the girls hand. She knew neither the gesture or her explanation would make sense to Alexis, but it made sense to Beckett. "He is so proud of you...so crazy about you."

Alexis blushed at the unsolicited praise, "He's a bit blind when it comes to me."

Beckett shook her head, "I don't think he's blind. He's just very proud of you and…most importantly, so thankful to have you in his life."

"It sounds like you guys have been talking about me?"

"Your Father always talks about you Alexis, you're the light of his life."

Now the girl shook back, "I might be _one_ of the lights, but there's another."

"What do you mean?"

Alexis let out a small laugh, "You. You're the other light in his life."

Beckett would never have guessed she could be embarrassed so quickly. The statement caught her off guard and she felt an immediate blush, "Alexis..."

The younger woman held up her hand. "Before anymore, let's order some food. I'm really hungry. It will help me think."

The girls father could do the same thing, expel the tension from a conversation with just a quip. She smiled to herself, _like father like daughter_ , "Sounds like a deal!"

The talk over the meal was light. First about school and then about college. Alexis was surprised to hear that Kate had attended Stanford. It was one of the schools she had considered and she had many questions. The conversation then drifted to Beckett. How she ended up entering the Academy and the work that followed. When they exhausted those topics, Beckett moved them back to Castle.

"So, tell the beginning of the story. Why am I a concern for you."

"Like I said, it's not a bad thing, honestly. I just want you to realize the influence you have over my Father. It's certainly special...but..."

"Alexis I honestly think it's a two way street. Your Dad and I seem to have a pretty big impact on each other. That last week was very hard, on both of us."

"When I first met you at the 4th of July party, I told my Grandmother..."

"What? What were you going to say?"

"I didn't think you two knew it, but I think everyone else at the party knew."

Beckett had heard a variation on this theme from Demming, but she wanted to hear Alexis' side of it. "Knew what?"

"Grams and I thought you two would end up together." She paused for a few seconds, "To me, you were together, you just didn't know it."

Beckett savored this version for a few beats before speaking. It was kind. It was hopeful. The party had been fun. She was surprised how much she liked Castle in that festive environment. She liked the way he laughed. How gracious he was with all the guests, even she and Tom. When she spoke to him at the refrigerator, the impulse to hold him was overpowering.

"I remember that evening very well. I was happy to be in your home. Happy to have so many friends around. You, your Grandmother and your Dad were wonderful hosts. I hadn't had that much time to socialize around your Father," she paused and lowered her voice, "I actually wanted to hug him." She let a laugh, "Would that have been a disaster or what?"

Alexis laughed out loud and covered her mouth, "Oh yeah, that would not have been very good."

They both were silent as each considered things about that day. Alexis continued. "My Dad talked to much about 'Beckett' around the house. I could see Melissa start to flinch every time she heard your name. I finally told him to stop." She paused and smiled like she was thinking about a private joke. "He asked me what I was talking about. I told him you cannot use the word Beckett in every sentence. Melissa is going to have her killed."

They both laughed so loud some of the other diners looked over at their table. They each leaned forward and put their hands over their mouths. Once they calmed down Alexis noticed that Beckett's smile faded, "Did I say something wrong?"

"No. Not at all." Her smile returning. "I was thinking about similar circumstances, but you weren't around to remind me to be quiet. I was just feeling foolish over what I had done. Tom did not like me talking about your Dad either. I had to...you know sorta scrub the word 'Castle' from our evening talks."

Alexis was quiet again, Kate ventured in, "So why did you invite me to lunch today Alexis?"

"I've watch my Dad over the last few months, after I started thinking about you guys ending up together. I was surprised at how things changed for him, and how quickly he was over Melissa. It seemed to be coming for months, and then she was gone. Then you guys were together at the loft working. And then you weren't."

"You mean our fight?"

"Yeah." She was quiet and stared off into space. "My Dad is a very kind person. Maybe to much for his own good. He's giving, sensitive, sometimes crazy...but he's also vulnerable."

"Why are you telling me these things Alexis?"

"I don't know if you realize there's a...I don't the word, but fragile comes to mind…a fragile side to him. When you fought...it was terrible. I told him he was acting like someone had died."

Beckett shook her head, the memory was still very fresh, "I'm sorry Alexis. I am really sorry."

But the girl didn't seem to hear, "The one that had died...was him."

"What do mean?"

"You're fight extinguished the light in him. It really scared me."

"Alexis look at me." The younger girls head came up, "I was so stupid...so foolish. I didn't mean to be so insensitive..," Beckett eyes glistened as she pushed back her emotions.

This time it was Alexis who reached over and touched her her hand. "I...I just want you to know you have a precious cargo in your hands...you have his heart. Please be careful."

With those words, the restraint of her tears gave way. This time Beckett looked away, out the window, as tears trickled down her cheeks. Although she did not look at the younger woman she spoke softly, "I will Alexis...I will."

XX

After they left the restaurant, Beckett mentioned that she was meeting her father for coffee. Alexis was heading for the subway, which was in the same direction, and agreed to take a minute to say hello to her Mr. Beckett. "He's talked about the party and would love to see you."

Indeed Jim Beckett was surprised when he looked up and saw his daughter walking in with Alexis Castle. Not what he expected. "Alexis, what brings you here?"

"I just had lunch and was on my way to the subway to head home. Just wanted to say hello."

"Would you like to join Katie and I?"

"Thank you sir but I need to get home plus, I've already taking enough of Detective Beckett's day."

He looked inquiringly at his daughter and raised and eye brow. "Is that so?"

"Dad, we had a wonderful lunch. No cross-examinations today."

They all laughed.

"Mr. Beckett I do have to run. I hope you have a good day." She turned to Beckett,"Detective thank you." But before Beckett could speak Alexis stepped close and gave her a hug. The two women embraced and Kate spoke whispered a thank you into her ear.

"Thanks." She turned and extended her hand to Mr. Beckett, "Nice seeing you sir."

"You too Alexis. Take care."

Beckett walked Alexis to the door and said a final good-bye. When she returned to the table her father sat with elbows on the table and his hands folded across his mouth. She could not see his expression, just his eyes peering at her.

"Are you OK Dad?"

He leaned back dropping his hands into his lap. "I was just thinking how hard last Saturday was for you...what a difference a week can make."

"Didn't you get my text that Castle and I had talked and...things were better?"

"I did. I was just surprised to see you come in with his daughter."

"She called me yesterday and asked if we could have lunch. That's why I needed to change our normal time."

"I understand. Where is your writer?"

"He's in Chicago. Been there since Thursday when he started a book signing tour."

"So how are you Katie?"

"I'm much better Dad." She paused, "My heart doesn't hurt anymore." She then looked down at her hands, folded on the table in front of her.

"Well...I was really worried about you last week when you came by, haven't seen you that upset...in a long time."

She groaned, "Yeah I was...really miserable. I'm sorry I cried all over you."

"Katie, you never have to apologize for crying on your Dad's shoulder. It's one of the honors of being a dad. I'm pleased you came to me."

She sat silently for a minute. He left her to her own thoughts. "It's funny...you think you know so much and then something, just bowls you off your feet...I'm so out of my league."

"Out of your league?"

"You know dealing with things...foreign...unknown to me."

"Tell me what's so foreign?"

"You told me that love can really hurt..."

"It can Sweetie."

"I believed that I've been in love in the past...felt a really strong pull towards someone...but..."

"But?"

"Not like what I feel now..."

"If it's love. It will knock you down."

"When I thought I had...pushed him away. Broken us up, before we got started." She paused again, "I was really panicked..."

Her studied her for a few moments, "One time, when your Mom and I were first dating. We got in an argument over...I don't what, but we went our separate ways. I remember how hollow everything seemed without her." He let out a small laugh and shook his head, "It was one miserable time. When we smoothed it out, I swore, I would never be without her again." This time he looked down at the table.

"I'm so sorry Dad. I wish she was here...wish you didn't have to do this without her."

He looked up into his daughter wide green eyes, tears seeping from the corners. He reached over and squeezed her folded hands. "Me to me my love. Me to."

After they sat in silence for a few minutes, he spoke. "Katie, lets look forward, and not back. Tell me what has changed in the last few days."

She straighten up, like she was trying to shrug off the ache for her mom, and tried at smile, then a real one broke through. "We talked a lot...and promised that we would fight our fights together. Neither of us would storm off. We'd figure it out."

"That's a good decision, I'm glad you got there...the sooner the better."

"It had been a terrible week for both of us. It was one of the reasons Alexis called me for lunch. She was...was really concerned about her Dad and how upset he has been…she wanted me to be aware...to be careful."

"Careful with what?"

Beckett looked down at utensils and moved them around, she was again embarrassed.

"Hey, tell me." Bumping her hand with his fist.

"She said...said I held his heart in my hands."

The senior Beckett, nodded, knowingly, "We're back to love Katie. Lovers do hold each others hearts. It a sacred treasure, a sacred trust."

"I know that now Dad...I wasn't really aware of...where I was...or, where we were." She shook her head.

"Katie...Hey it's OK to be surprised by love. It's a wonderful thing." He smiled and took her hands in his, "The best thing in the world."

XX

She got back to her apartment shortly before five. It had been a busy afternoon. She wished he was home. Wished he was back.

She found her phone and typed out a text: _Have you forgotten me?_

Almost instantly the reply came back; _Never! Ever!_

She laughed, then responded: _When will you be home?_

 _Soon!_

She frowned and responded: _Not soon enough._

Then: _I'll call you as soon as I'm done here. Around 8._

 _I'll be waiting. KB_

XX

His schedule for Sunday wouldn't allow him to get out of Chicago until 4 o'clock. The flight and time change would put him back in New York about 7 pm. He had called his driver and arranged to be picked up at the airport by 7:30.

He chafed as the plane started it's decent into JFK. He wanted this trip to be over. Wanted to get home. Wanted to see Kate.

When he disembarked he pulled on a hat and sunglasses. It was still light enough outside to not look like a gangster wearing sunglasses at night. He had enjoyed meeting his readers and fans, but he'd had his fill in Chicago. He just wanted to slip into the crowds and get lost in the masses. No more Richard Castle for this day.

Normally he packed light. But with so many signings, he wanted to change his clothes between each event. So instead of a just a carry-on, he took along two suitcases.

He rode the escalator down to the baggage claim area. As he made his way towards carousel Three, he saw a sign with CASTLE printed on it and raised above the crowd. He made his way to his driver.

He was taken back by the sight of Ron wearing a black hoodie sweat shirt with the hood over his head. Not his usual outfit. As he got near the man he knew it was not Ron at all. Two green eyes and a beautiful smile greeted him. Her arms immediately extended and pulled him in for a hug.

He whispered into the side of the hood, "Beckett! Beckett, I sure missed you."

She beamed at him, "I'm glad to hear that."

"So where's my driver?"

"I'm your driver. Ron has been dispatched to...other work."

He smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Tell me you used your badge and parked at the curb?"

She let out a small laugh, "Are you crazy? I'm trying my best to be incognito. Parking a police cruiser at the curb would...a...blow that cover."

"Yeah but it would be cool."

She shoulder punched him. "Go get your suitcase."

"Suitcases!" Giving her a weak smile.

"You are such a girl."

"Well, I can fix that misconception in a flash."

"Tell me you're not going to flash me here?"

"Detective you are one rowdy thing. I go away for a couple of days...the next thing I see is a sign toting, hoodie clad, trash talking Beckett."

"The suitcases Castle. Today!"

XX

It may only be 19 miles from JFK to mid-town but it usually takes around 45 minutes. Lucky for them, the traffic was lighter on this Sunday evening so they'd be there a bit faster. They took the time to catch-up, and both were happy for it.

"So Detective, how'd my driving service handle your intervention?"

She laughed, "Castle you know a ride from the airport does not really qualify as an intervention? But to put your fantasy to rest...you know being grabbed and taking away by...what did you call me? Oh, I remember now...a good looking chick." She smiled over at him, "It only took a call."

"You called my driving service?"

"No! A higher authority...your Mother."

"What? We're just full of surprises, aren't we?" His mouth agape, like he was shocked. "And how did you find my Mother?"

She looked straight forward, refusing to make eye contact. The goal was to tease, even torture him for a bit. "Alexis gave me her cell phone number yesterday...at lunch."

He sat up straight and turned to face her, "Whoa! Wait...wait." He shook his head, and switched to a sing-song delivery. "You got my Mother's cell phone number from my daughter, during your lunch with her...yesterday?"

Still focusing, with excessive attention on the road, "Yep!"

"Beckett! Yep is not an answer."

She looked and him and shook head up and down, "Actually...it is."

He slumped back in his seat, "Are you really going to be that way?"

She could no longer contain her laughter, "Only as long as I can drive you crazy...and you are so easy!"

He smiled, "Seriously you had lunch with Alexis yesterday?"

"I did."

"What happened to Saturday lunch with your Dad?"

"After Alexis left, my Dad and I had lunch."

"Alexis was with you and your Dad?"

"Not for lunch."

"Beckett! Stop! Stop with these piece-meal answers."

"You asked a question and I've tried to answer."

"I have an idea...tell me the story of how the three of you ended up together."

"OK." Baiting him a wide smile, "After Alexis and I had lunch, we met with my Dad. Alexis said hello and then she needed to run. Dad had lunch, actually I had coffee...I was still full from lunch with Alexis."

"Better, but..."

"But what?"

"How did you and Alexis end up at lunch together?"

"She called and asked me to lunch. I accepted her invitation."

Still not satisfied, he let out a long breath. He tentatively asked, "And what did you guys talk about during lunch?"

"A lot of stuff...but mainly you."

"What exactly...about _me_ did you discuss?"

"I think you should ask Alexis. Somethings are...you know, secret."

"Beckett she's my daughter, there are no secrets."

She laughed, "Did you bump your head on your trip?"

Before he could answer she pulled to the curb and stopped.

He looked out the window finally realizing where they were. He looked over out her, "Beckett, why are we at your place?"

She feigned confusion, "You don't want to have a private dinner with the...chick?"

"I would love to have dinner with you. I just...don't want Alexis and my Mother to worry."

"Your Mother assured me..." She paused for a few beats, "That they didn't need you this evening."

He looked like he'd been busted for something, "How long did you talk to my Mother?"

"Enough to know that everything is fine at home. And you're with me."

XX

She had prepared whatever she could before going to pick him up at the airport. Everything was on the stove top. She needed to boil the water for the pasta, heat the sauce and cut up the baguette. Salad was in the frig along with some sliced fruit.

"Beckett this table looks, very nice." He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her neck. She squirmed.

"Aren't you afraid of an injury? Especially if you grope the cook?"

"That my little chick, was not a grope. Merely an innocent hug."

She sat her spoon down and turned and faced him. Then rose up and kissed him. They clung to each other for a moment. He groaned, "Man I missed you Beckett."

"Me too. Don't like you being away."

After the meal he cleaned off the table and worked on the dishes. She moved their two glasses of wine to her small living room and rested her feet on the table in front of the sofa.

Within a few minutes he came in and sat beside her.

"That was delicious...and the best company I've had this week."

"Well thank you. I wanted to make this a special welcome home." She leaned over and burrowed into his side, wrapping her hands around his arm.

When he finished his wine and put the glass on the table, he sat back and pulled her tightly against his side again. "I hate to leave Beckett, but..."

She sat up, and looked at him with a funny smile, "You're not leaving."It wasn't a question.

"Beckett, I..."

"When I picked you up at the airport, you asked if this was an intervention...it can be."

He smiled, "I just..."

"No! You're with me tonight...the whole night."

"Kate...I..."

She put her fingers to his lips, "Shut-up Rick, turn out the lights. I'm taking a shower first, then it's your turn."

She had already risen and was walking toward the bathroom. When she stopped and turned, flashing a smile she added, "We're in the first door on the left."

He rose, and followed.

* * *

A/N - Thanks for reading. We are nearing the end of my story, putting together the last chapters. My intent when I started was short story, but stories tend to take on their own life.

All mistakes are my own. Madreag


	17. Chapter 17

A/N - Borrowed a scene from _Always Buy Retail_ for my AU tale. Hope you enjoy.

Again for all the follows, favorites and reviews, thank you so much. The mistakes are mine.

For these characters the credit remains with Andrew Marlowe who made the magic.

* * *

 **The Interview**

 **Chapter 17**

On November 1, 2009, _Heat Wave_ hit the stores. The lives of Castle and Beckett had been, almost normal. They worked together during part of the day, and he wrote the balance of the time.

She would have dinner at the loft and he did the same at her apartment. There was no talk about living together, but he spent a good deal of time at her place. Often, long after the dinners were over and even as late as sun rise. But she did not stay at the loft.

The quiet and sheltered routine of their lives was once again shattered by his public persona. She'd been given a copy of _Heat Wave,_ nearly a month before the publication date, and she liked it. She knew it was based on a literary fiction of herself. But, it was not her. He had told her that over and over. For him there was only one her. Any fictional version would pale in comparison. But the world did not need to know that. She worked on ignoring his constant flattery, still he was relentless in championing her and her achievements.

They would weather this publication cycle just like the last article from Page Six.

XX

"How would I even know that word?" His mother tossed the paper away.

"Mother, it's too early for fretting over a cross-word puzzle."

"That was not a cross word puzzle! It was some other word-thing, which accused me missing the word, simoon. Really! Simoon! What kind of word is that anyway."

She watched as her son. The writer and resident word-smith turned to a higher source. "Really Richard! You're going Google the word?" Shaking her head in disbelief.

"Yes, Mother. Simoon it is not in my everyday lexicon." His thumbs tapping away on his phone. He nodded a couple of time, "It means a hot scorching wind off the desert. It's pronounced, Sea moan...or something like that."

"I rest my case. How would I ever know that? Stupid game!" She walked to the sink and rinsed her plate and cup. "I'm off to get spruced up."

"Spruced? What are you a tree?" Laughing at his own joke.

"Do not make fun of your mother's vocabulary. You had no idea what simoon even meant."

After she left him in silence, he thought it ironic that after nearly a year of writer's block, he'd found the perfect word to describe his creative famine. Simoon. A dry, hot, parching wind. Just like his brain that had stopped teeming with ideas and withered by a numbing silence.

But then things changed and now nearly a year later _Nikki Heat_ was published. He would never have dreamed such a thing could happen.

He recalled, years ago, when he and Alexis had been at book signing. During one of the breaks he was perusing the shelves. It was late 2008. He spotted a book that had starting popping up everywhere. Curious, he'd read the jacket and said to himself, 'Too weird, too dark, not for me.' But later he ended up buying the book and read it in an evening. The story was powerful. But what struck him was the author. A man who had become destructive and trashed everything of value in his life. The non-writer, seething with anger and self-loathing, decided to write. In an attempt to tell his story, the history of his struggle, he ended up creating a fascinating tale as a gift for his children. In the book one of the character was named, Sarayu, a Hindu word for a refreshing breeze…and the word stuck with Castle.

When he met Beckett, he was locked in his own personal simoon. But she was his sarayu.

He took his copy of _The Shack_ down from the book-shelf and thumbed the pages. He'd marked places where the author had seemingly written to him. He had told no one about this book or his thoughts. But now on this sunny morning his mother had stirred the memory by simply asking about the meaning of simoon. It reminded him of that 'other wind,' one that rekindled the creative life in him. His wind had name, and it was Kate.

XX

It was Friday. The first three days of the week had been tedious. They'd worked on several cases that had stalled. But then on Thursday, the call came in, and they were out on the streets.

The decided almost immediately that best leads would come from either video or the people closely connected to the dead woman. Beckett and Castle planned to drop in and interview the girl's roommate. Ryan and Esposito were working the video angle.

Beckett hoped the roommate would have some ideas, or a person of interest for them. Some lead to unravel the 'why' of this college student's untimely death. What she did not know was that she was not the only one looking for the roommate. The killer was doing the same thing, and their paths were about to converge.

After telling the girl what had happened to her friend, she became so distraught she could barely speak. Let alone answer any questions. While they waited for her to calm down, they perused the apartment. But the search was interrupted by a loud thud, followed by the front door flying open. There stood a wild eyed man, waving a gun. Everyone dove for cover. Beckett and Castle ended up behind kitchen cabinets. The girl hid sprinted for a back room. Beckett was able to get off several shots, but the shooter kept firing. When she looked over at Castle she whispered, "Two shots left." He looked behind then and signaled for her to wait. He had an idea for a momentary distraction. The plan worked and Beckett hit home, taking the shooter out.

After checking that the perp was down for good, they stood in the silence. Their ears still rang from the gun fire in the confirmed space of the small apartment. Glass was everywhere. The cabinet behind them had been made with inset glass panels, allowing the display of cups and plates. Now, the contents were broadcast across the kitchen by the rain of bullets.

After pausing to take in the scene, they turned an inspected each one another for injuries.

"Castle you hit anywhere?"

"I don't think so. You?"

"No I'm good. But let me look at you." As she looked him over, he was surprised at how much glass was in her hair. His eyes were wide, hers equaling his.

They were interrupted by men coming down the hall, one called out, "Detective! Clear?"

"Clear!" Her voice strong and authoritative.

The team leader came up to her, "How many people are here?"

She held up three fingers, "Ms. Fraser is down the hall, she lives here. Castle and myself." She turned and pointed at the man on the floor. "I hit him center chest...I couldn't find a pulse."

"If you two will stand against the counter, I'll take a look." Motioning to his partner, "Frank will check on the girl."

After a quick inspection and confirmation they had not been hit. "You've got some small nicks from flying glass, and lots of it in your hair. Otherwise you seem OK."

Beckett spoke for them, "We'll take care of the glass. Done that before."

"You know to be careful. Tweezers and then lots of running water. A utility sink works best, not a shower or tub."

"Yeah I'm good. Thanks."

It took sometime after the team arrived to get everything down. When they finally left the scene both were lost in thought. Castle broke the silence. "Did you see that blender explode?"

"Yeah, It was there...and then it wasn't."

What neither said was the obvious. One of them could have been the blender, shot through or even dead.

XX

Since Beckett's apartment was closest they went there for clean-up.

In frustration she snapped at him, "Castle you need to sit still."

He shot back, "Beckett you been at this for thirty minutes."

"Eleven minutes to be exact! You are so impatient."

"We'll...see how you do when it's your turn."

An hour later they were done. Each had picked through the others hair with tweezers. Then they'd used her kitchen sink to thoroughly rinse each others hair until no more glass shards came out. At the end, they both looked like drown rats. But the glass was gone.

"Beckett, I need to get home. Check on Alexis and take a shower."

"Me too." She leaned in and kissed his cheek, giving him a hug, "Will you call me once your done."

He reciprocated and kissed her forehead. She stood with her arms wrapped around him. Neither said a word. They just held on to each other.

"Kate, I'm so glad your OK." He squeezed harder.

"Me too Castle. I was really worried." But then she tried to lighten the mood, "Afraid we were going to have starting throwing things when I ran of bullets."

XX

Castle stood in the shower and let the hot water sooth his body and nerves. He was surprised at how hyped he was from being shot at. He'd re-run the battle in his head a number of times. Considered the alternate outcomes. None of which he liked. He scrubbed some more.

He spoke to the shower door, "What if Kate had been hit? What if she had died?" He knew it was her job. But that was no comfort. He reasoned that people should not have to die because of their jobs. But cops, fireman and soldiers seem to come to terms with it, as part of what of they did. But he was none of those people. He was writer, in love with a cop and all the hypotheticals had been shattered by a real shooting. It was no longer what could happen? But what did happen.

He neither could nor would he suggest that she find something safer to do. She loved her job. She was driven both professionally and personally to serve. He needed to honor her choice. But her vulnerability truly frightened him.

He was sitting on the side of the bed when his phone rang and her face lit up the screen.

"Hey, miss me?" Teasing her.

She let out a weak laugh, "Yeah"

"You don't sound to good Beckett, are you OK?"

Her response was not immediate, then, "I..I think so."

His voice shifted, reflecting his concern for her, "Beckett what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I've just been running this afternoon's thing...over in my head..." She paused.

"Yeah me too."

Again she did not speak but he could hear her breathing. "Kate you're starting to worry me. Tell me what's wrong."

She spoke softly, almost a pleading, "Can you come back over."

"Of course...but tell me what's wrong."

"Honestly Castle nothing is wrong. I just need you here and with me tonight. Is that OK?"

"Yeah. My Mother's here and she can keep an eye on Alexis. I'll see you in thirty or forty five minutes."

"Thanks."

Just before hanging up he asked, "Have you eaten?"

"No. Not yet!"

"I'll grab something on the way."

XX

When the call ended she felt silly for asking him to spend the night with her. But she was worried by the events. What if he had been wounded or killed. She could not bear the thought of taking Alexis' father away from her. She would have to talk to Castle about her work, about avoiding situations like today. They needed to devise a better plan to keep him safe.

She made her way into the kitchen and poured two glasses of wine for them. Then returned and placed them on the coffee table and curled up on the sofa. The only light came from down the hall, but she was too tired to get up and turn on a lamp.

Again she shuddered at the thought of losing him. She simply could not. She didn't want to be sappy, or clinging. But between the post shooting rush of adrenaline and then the bottoming out, there was one residual emotion. Fear for his safety. She felt tears burn her eyes, "Get hold of yourself."

She took several deep breaths, then a couple of sips of wine. She laid her head back and waited in the near dark for his arrival. She must have dozed off and was startled when her door opened. She smiled at his silhouette, "I was about to give up on you Castle."

He had a bag in his hand, "It took them a little longer than usual to whip up some dinner. Why is it so dark in here?

"Come here and sit beside me. And hush."

He placed the bag on the table and dropped beside her on the sofa. She coiled around him like a snake.

"You did miss me."

She just hummed.

XX

He awoke when he felt something move, slightly disoriented, then he felt her arm move across his chest. "Beckett you awake."

"I am."

"What time is it?"

"It's 3:15"

"How long have you been awake?"

"I don't know, half and hour."

"Why?'

"You?" Kissing his shoulder.

"Tell me I don't snore."

She nuzzled against him, 'You don't snore."

"So how did I wake you up?"

Her voice was low against his neck, "I was so scared that you'd end up hurt today."

"Wait a minute! You're cop, you're use that."

"Wrong Castle. You never get use to someone shooting at you."

He scrubbed his face with his hand, pushed back his hair, "I've been around after shootings, is it always like this for you?"

"No."

"What's up then?"

"It wasn't just the shooting...it was you so near...so much in the danger zone."

"Kate I'm fine. You're fine." He kissed the top of her head again.

"I'm not fine Castle...we've been together such a short amount of time..."

"OK, I'm not following you...not sure I'm awake. Tell me what you mean."

"I can't let anything happen to you! For Alexis' sake. For your Mom's...and for me."

"You have a lot on your list there."

"Don't make fun of me...we need to figure out away to keep you safe."

"I'll wear a vest...carry a gun."

She huffed, "I want you out of harms way."

He exhaled, "Kate I want to be with you. You're not the only one worrying here."

"Yeah, but it's my job?"

"I know...but I want you safe too...want you here...want you with me."

She squeezed him again, "We need to figure it out."

"We will, but not tonight. Now go to sleep."

Within minutes, he could hear her breathing change, her grip on him relaxed and she slipped under sleep's hand.

XX

He awoke before her and quietly left her bedroom and set about making coffee. He sat and had a cup, then heard her call out his name.

He stood in the bedroom door with a cup for her. "Hey sleeping beauty."

"Coffee and room service. Wow, you must really like me."

"That's an understatement." He sat the coffee on her night stand, then sat on the side of the bed. Pushing her hair back and he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "I'd kiss you properly but...I've got coffee dog-breath."

She laughed, "I thought maybe you had to get home and snuck out."

"The only sneaking I have in mind is, back under these covers to have my way with you."

Another laugh, "Now that's a good answer."

During their light breakfast of toast and fruit, he studied her.

"Castle, is there something on my face?"

"No, I just love to see you at this time in the morning."

"And what is so special...about this time of the day."

"It means I've spent the night next to you. I get to see a side of you the world never sees. Mussed hair, ever beautiful skin, but free of make-up. Beautiful lips, stunning eyes."

She stood and took the two steps to wrap her arms around him, "You really know how to steal a girl's heart."

"You've stolen mine...should it be any other way?"

She said nothing but hugged him against her stomach as she stood over him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. After a few moments he pushed her back far enough so he could look up into her eyes, "Will you come live at the loft with us?"

"Castle, I want to be with you, just like this, everyday..."

"But?"

"You're going to laugh at me? Think I'm a foolish woman." She returned to her chair and pulled her legs up.

"I don't think there's anything you could ever do that would make me see you as foolish. It's just not in you."

"Well, I might change that when you hear my answer."

"Just tell me Kate, what is it?"

"It feels like hers…" She looked down at her hands. It was his turn to close the distant between them and to hold her.

"I understand. I've wondered if that was bothering you."

"I told you it was foolish."

"Actually it's not. Let me think about it."

XX

It had been a few weeks since Castle had run into Gene on the roof. He'd been busy spending time with Kate. But their recent conversation had started him thinking, when that happened, sleep was always the first casualty.

After the two caught-up, they sat in silence for awhile.

"Gene I'm going to have a small dinner, I'd like you and Fran to join me."

"What's the occasion?"

"I'd just like to have some friends over and, I'd like you guys to meet Kate."

"I would love to meet your Detective."

"Would next week work for you, either Tuesday or Wednesday evening?"

"We have a pretty quiet life Rick. Either of those would work for us."

"That'd be great! I'll check everyone's schedule and let you know."

"So how are things with her Rick?"

He let out a laugh, "She's just wonderful. We have different views on most things, but we seem to blend together really well. There's an easy and...a comfortable rhythm that's very different for me with her."

Gene leaned forward and looked out into the dark. He spoke softly, "I think the right person is a combination of friend, lover and confidant. Each one adds balance to the other one's life."

As Castle considered the older man words, he was drawn back by Gene speaking, "I need to tell you something."

Castle turned to face him, his voice had taken on a serious tone, "Is everything OK?"

"All's well...there are some changes for us and it has been a hard decision."

"What kind of changes?"

"As you know my daughter Stephanie lives upstate. Fran and I have decided we need to be nearer to her and our grand-kids."

"How do you plan to make that happen?"

"We've decided to sell the unit, follow our sons requests in his will, and make the move."

"I understand Gene...but I hate to see you go."

"Yeah me too. Who's going to chew-the-fat with me in the middle of the night?"

"How long until you decide?"

"We got a real estate guy coming out next week."

The sat in silence for a bit longer, "Rick, I'm heading in. Didn't sleep much last night." He laughed, "I actually feel tried."

"Sleep well my friend."

When he was alone he looked out at the city lights. A feeling the gloom over Gene's news settled on him. The melancholy blanket was heavy. He had relied on this man to help him navigate. Almost like a father, he'd miss these times, and Gene.

XX

The next night spent the night with Beckett. When they crawled into bed she scooted next to him and watched as he studied the ceiling.

"You gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what?

"Whatever it is that has you so down. This is unlike you."

He rolled his head and kissed her forehead. "Have I told you how happy you make me?"

She propped herself up on one elbow, "Me making you happy, is the reason your down?"

"No! No! I'm down about stuff at the loft, not about you." He pulled her back to his side. "While being a bit blue, I was just thinking how great it is to have you with me."

"What's happening at the loft?"

"I was on the roof last night...Gene told me he and Fran are going to sell their unit. They want to move closer to their daughter and her kids."

"Is that bad?"

"Only for me. I've really enjoyed our many evenings together. He was the one that suggested I wake up and accept how important Detective Beckett was in my life."

"I like that." She laughed and squirmed against him.

He laughed and tickled her, "Yeah that Detective is pretty cool."

"Cool? That's the best you got?"

"OK, she's hot...smoking hot."

"Better….much better. Forget her and tell me about Gene."

"I can never forget her." He pulled her up for a kiss.

When they settled back, "I guess I've come to rely on Gene…someone to bounce things off of...it's just sad to see them go."

She patted his chest, "I get that...I think I owe him."

"Owe him what?"

"For pushing you to me."

"Well, next week I invited them for dinner. Tuesday or Wednesday work for you?"

"Some meetings Tuesday at 5 o'clock. Let's do Wednesday."

"I'll let them know."

XX

The small dinner party went well. Martha, Alexis, Mr. Beckett, Fran, Gene and Kate had all gathered around his table. He was a happy camper. After everyone had eaten, they sat and chatted. Castle told a part of the crazed shooter story, painting himself as the hero. Beckett just shook her head. "Divide it all by two, you'll be nearer the truth."

"Detective, I'm a writer! I have a license to weave an interesting tale."

"Well Castle I'm struggling between weaving and pure BS."

"You see Gene...you pointed me at her...and now listen to her."

"Sounds like BS to me too Rick."

"Oh great! Now she's got my friends against me."

Everyone laughed and they moved on to the next topic.

During a lag in conversation Beckett and Alexis grabbed plates and moved them to the kitchen. After Alexis had set hers down, she returned to gather some more. Beckett turned to see Gene standing at the counter with a couple of empty bowls.

"Gene we'll get that." Reaching for the dishes.

"Detective, its my pleasure."

"Well it was our pleasure to have you over and...and please call me Kate."

He smiled, "Happy to do so. Let me tell you, I'm pleased that you and Rick are together. I knew you were special just by the way he spoke about you."

"Well I think he's pretty special too."

"I noticed you flinch when he was telling the story of the shooting."

She shook her head, "I just worry about him...don't want him to get hurt...he's too important."

"He's a great guy, I understand your concern."

She huffed, "He's bull-headed."

"That too." They both laughed.

"He's pretty upset about you moving."

Gene looked at the counter for a few beats, "I could tell. I've enjoyed our times together. Felt like we were...meant to be…meeting each others needs."

Beckett suddenly felt a surge of emotion for this man, she stepped around the counter and hugged him, "Thank you so much Gene."

XX

The three men, Frank Cotta, Scott McCann and Castle, met ever week to go over the progress on _The Beckett_ building. If needed they'd make any necessary course corrections. All three were relatively happy with how things were going. The retail spaces were ahead of the projection, but the residential units were still behind.

"Frank, Scott, I've been doing some thinking, I'd like to take one of the residential units on the top floor."

They both looked at him but Scott spoke, 'Rick those are the most expensive. We've all agreed we need the revenue from those sales."

He held up his hands, "I misspoke...I didn't mean take, I meant buy. I want to buy one of the units from us." Spinning his hand in a circle to include all three of them.

"Rick you've already spent a lot this project, you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm very sure."

"Well that's good news might give us the push we need to get them going."

XX

When he called the architect his old friend said he was happy to have him drop in at his convenience.

"Terry I just need a basic floor plan. A sketch, nothing for certain yet. I want someone to look at it to tell me how she'd like the unit configured, if it were hers."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Some like my loft, but different, a good, open living space. But I want...want her to be involved in the layout. It's really for her."

The architect smiled, "Is this _the cop_ we're talking about?"

He laughed, "Yeah it's the cop."

XX

He was so busy he didn't call her until the afternoon, "Hey can I take you to dinner tonight, nothing too fancy?"

Sounding slightly irritated, "And how are Mr. Castle?"

He chuckled at her formality and cool tone, "Detective Beckett, I am well."

"That's good and for the record, I would very much like to dine with you this evening."

"Can I pick you up at work?"

"No, let me go home and shower first, get out these clothes."

Lowering his voice,"Can I take a shower with you?"

"Do you want to do to dinner or not?"

"I do."

"Then the answer is no."

"We can't do both?"

"My place. Seven o'clock sharp. Don't be late Castle."

"How about early?"

"Don't be early either...seven sharp." She ended the call.

XX

He was right on time.

As soon as she opened the door he pulled her in for a kiss. "You look wonderful Kate." Eyes wide.

"Castle, don't even go there. We will never get out of here you start toying with my affections." She pushed him to arms length.

"I would never toy with your affection."

"Just to be safe! You stay over there," pointing to the sofa, "I need just two minutes."

"Can I help?"

"Yeah! But over there!" Her eyes dancing in delight.

Thirty minutes later they entered the restaurant, of course the owner knew Castle.

"Hey Rick, good to see you."

"You too James."

"So who is this beautiful woman on your arm?"

"James this is Kate Beckett." He reached out and shook her hand.

"You're..."

Still shaking his hand, "No! I'm Kate...not her!"

Castle laughed, "She doesn't like the name…Nikki."

"Well Kate! Welcome to my humble restaurant, thank you for coming. Let me show you to your table."

He took them to a back table, large enough for six. Castle sat at one end, she took the seat nearest him on the left. "Big table Castle. Someone joining us."

"I would not ask you out, to be with anyone but you."

"You are such a suck-up."

He gave her a serious look, "Not this time. I don't want to to be with anyone but you."

She looked at him, no mirth in her eyes, "Are you OK?"

He smiled lightening the mood, "I could not be better. So what will it be?"

The decided to order two different things and share the plates. After they were finished she touched his hand and rolled her eyes, "Well that was wonderful. How do you find these places?"

"Just kinda stumble onto it. And your right, it was great again...how about dessert?"

"I don't think so, but I would love coffee."

When the coffee was set before them he took her hand, "Something I want to tell you and show you."

She sensed the seriousness in his eyes, "Is everything OK?"

"Better than OK." Squeezing her hand. "I picked this spot because I wanted someplace public. Wanted you to know it was not...something said in the heat of the moment."

She furrowed her brow, "You're trying to scare me aren't you?"

"No, I am not." He leaned towards her, pulled up her hand to his lips and kissed it. "We have been together for nine months, and really together for about four." Planting another kiss on her hand, her eyes now wide, "The best four months of my life Kate."

Her face showed her appreciation, "You need a public place to tell me that?"

"No, but I need a public place to tell you...I love you Kate...I want you with me...morning, evening, week-ends...always with me."

Her eyes sparkled at the words, brimmed with emotion. It was her turn to pull his hands to herself then lay her face against them. "Rick..." She lost the battle and the tears erupted and skittered down her checks.

He leaned in and kissed them away. "There's more."

But she pulled on his arm and kept him close for another minute."Let me at least hold on to your arm. It's not everyday you hear the words you've been hoping for since the beginning. But Castle you know how I feel about the loft...I'm sorry…"

He smiled, kissing her cheek, "I'm not suggesting the loft. I'm suggesting a new home...ours."

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a folded piece of paper. He started scooting the tableware and remaining plates back and then spread it on the table.

"What is this Castle?

He pointed out the partial plan of a house, or a building she wasn't sure. It looked like a draft of the floor plan to her. He interrupted her thoughts.

"These dark black lines are the perimeter walls."Pointing to a break in one of the lines, "This is the front door. The kitchen and bathrooms have some limitations on where they can be placed. That's because of the plumbing and wiring...but there's even some give there."

"Castle...you want me to help you design a new home for us?" She stared at him with wide eyes. "Where will it be?"

"At _The Beckett_ , you know the building my partners and I have been renovating."

XX

Later that evening they returned to her apartment. They'd picked a movie, but she'd crashed in the first fifteen minutes. But within thirty minutes or so, she spasmed awake, her eyes popping open, catching him in a full stare. "What? What are you looking at?"

"You."

In just an instant she was swept from slumber to blushing. How was that even possible? "And why do you feel the need to watch me sleep?"

"My needs, when it comes to you, are legion."

She was fully awake now, "Castle," Now moving in his direction, "Are you OK?"

"I'm light-years beyond OK." Their hands locked, "I take great comfort in your presence."

Leaning her head against his shoulder, "You didn't fall on your head during my brief respite did you?"

"I was thinking about _The Beckett_ building and then the real Beckett crowded everything out." He smiled softly at her.

She beamed at him, "You should kiss the real Beckett, now."


	18. Epilogue

**The Interview**

 **Epilogue**

He decided to pop the question over a deli sandwich. Fortunately she displayed some restraint in her answer.

"A mirror on the ceiling Castle….are you nuts?" Before he could get a word out, she pressed on, "Not on your life! I am not, Nikki Heat!" Shaking her head vigorously in disgust, "Have you forgot that my Dad, and your daughter, are going to see that room! Have you lost your mind."

He smiled at her over his sandwich, "It was joke a Beckett."

She let out a soft growl, "Damn you Castle! Why do you mess with me like that? You know I'm already stressing over the whole building thing."

He laughed again, "Because you get so serious…just want you to lighten up a bit."

Still miffed and shaking her head, she flung a potato chip at him.

Feigning insult, "Hey calm down...we are in public."

She just glared at him, "I'll public you." She took a bite of her sandwich and calmed down.

He worked on his sandwich and watched her.

"So! Tell me, how are thing going at home?"

He remained silent for a couple beats, then leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, planting his chin on his folded hands and just stared at her.

"What are you looking at? And, why are you staring?"

"I just love to hear you say... _at home_...because I know you're referring to _our home_. It still makes my stomach jump."

She sat down her sandwich and took his hand and smiled, "Have I told you I love you today?"

"You have...but tell again."

After lunch they started out in opposite directions, he grabbed her hand, "This was so short, I had a question for you...but later."

"OK, listen...I know Alexis had a thing last night at school, and you needed to be there...but tonight, I expect you to be with me, in my bed Mister."

He laughed, "Yes Ma'am."

XX

It was Saturday and she had missed the last two lunches in a row. Too much going on.

As she slid into her seat she offered, "Dad, sorry I've been so flaky. Between work and our new place I don't seem to have a minute..."

"Tell me how the construction's going?"

"It's going great. Its hard for me to grasp the change, from 900 square feet, to 4200."

"That's...a lot of house my dear."

"It really is. I thought when we started the drawings I could never use all the space, but we...filled it up."

Jim Beckett let out a soft laugh, "And how is Rick?"

"He's doing really well. He's already working on the second _Nikki Heat_ book. Says he has to hit it while the iron is hot."

"How is _Nikki Heat_ playing out for you?"

She sighed, "I think it's helped the PD with some much needed positive PR, but it kinda sucks for me."

"I would think so."

"I'm the same detective as before the book. But I think my fellow cops resent my face in the paper and then the fact that I'm with a public figure...it's not that pleasant. I only want to be a cop Dad...I love my job."

"How does Castle feel about it?"

She laughed, "First he tells, me everyone's jealous since I'm the best cop in New York…he's slightly biased, and…"

He cut her off, "Well I agree with him! You are the best cop in New York."

"Dad! I can't take that from both of you, and please don't encourage him...he thinks I walk on water."

"Katie, seriously, I'm with him. I do indeed have an _extraordinary_ daughter, and I'm delighted that he knows it."

She shook her head, "You might be worse than him, Anyway, the other thing is, he's used to the celebrity life. I'm not and I'm not interested in it. I have an important job and being in the papers is just an obstacle to my work."

"Why is it an obstacle?"

Her nostrils flared and she looked out the window, "I don't want to sign autographs just to get into a crime scene. Castle can just wave and smile...it's harder for me."

"I understand that, but it will blow over."

"I'm ready for that!"

"So tell me about you two."

"We're good, really good!" She smiled, "You know, love is really a wonderful thing Dad?"

She had always been a serious child and then a serious adult. Her smile was beautiful and reminded him of her mother. Kate was a lot like her. Although Joanna was happy, she was not a smile every minute type of person, but when she did smile it was always a joy to him. Now his daughter sat across from him with that same beautiful smile adorning her face. He felt his heart speed up with this convergence of the past and present. He reached over and squeezed her hand, "Yes my dear, I know that to be true. It is the best...of all things in this world."

XX

They had agreed to meet at the new place after work. They sat on make-shift chairs in the center of their nearly completed home at The Beckett. Their voices echoed bouncing off all the hard surfaces.

She was reading something when she looked up at him, "Castle when are they going to finish our bathroom?"

After a long pause, he offered, "There's...a delay with the floor and shower-stall stone."

"Why? What stone?"

"Well...do you remember our trip to LA and _T_ _he Getty_?"

"Yeah." Her voice reflecting confusion.

"Well, the tile we picked was close to the travertine they used at the museum, I thought why not get the real thing, but….it comes from Italy from one of the many quarries near the Bagni di Tivoli area."

"Castle what are you talking about? What's that got to do with our tile?"

"You said you loved the _Getty_ so I did some research…and get this...it's the same type of stone they used to build the Roman Coliseum..."

Her eyes widened, "Wait, tell me you didn't order something...from Italy."

He looked at the ground.

She waited for his answer, but already knew what he would say. Of course he ordered it. It was Castle. "Why would you do that?"

"This home" he held his arms wide, "is for you Kate. I wanted something special. Something few people in the world can even get."

"Castle, I live in a small apartment with old plumbing and faulty outlets. My hair dryer throws the breaker nearly every day." She moved close to him and wrapped her arms around him, "This home, our home, is something I never even dreamed of having. I don't need rock from Italy...I just need us."

He kissed the top of her head, "It will be here next week… you get both."

XX

It was three o'clock. She was at the cusp of the afternoon. Castle had headed to the loft to do some writing, she'd see him later.

Her plan was to focus on paperwork, but she heard someone clear their throat and turned to see Lanie Parrish.

"Hey Lanie, what brings you to the Twelfth?"

"You my friend. You."

Lanie scooted into Castles chair and sat without saying anything. Beckett waited, then ventured, "Lanie? Is everything OK?"

"I'm just checking to see if you're alive...I never," pausing for effect, "I mean _never_ hear from you anymore. Has that man stolen you and then locks you away at night?"

She laughed, "I'm here everyday, and you know that. You're the one that's too busy hustling the dead."

"And how pray tell? How do you _hustle_ the dead?"

"You know, the things you do to them."

"I don't _do_ things to them. I figure out what the _doers_ did!"

"You know, that science thing of yours."

"I don't want to talk about my work...enough with the dead." She flipped her hand like swapping at a fly away, "How are you doing in this _magical_ life of yours?"

"Why magical?"

At machine gun speed, "If I had told you a year ago...where you'd be today...you would have laughed at me. And yeah, it's been nearly magical."

Beckett shook her head slowly, "There's been a lot of not so magical Lanie."

"What does that mean? You're hanging with a New York celeb writer...who by the way is crazy for you. He's building you a mansion...probably spending money on you like it's water. So what's not magical?"

She sat quiet for a few beats, "You know...he might not have picked me." She looked out into space, "And that really scared me."

The ME huffed,"Every man picks you. You were probably the first chosen for teams in nursery school...if they had them."

She tried to laugh but failed, "Lanie, he didn't pick me. I pretty much threw myself at him. I was the pursuer and not the pursued." She stopped and offered a short huff, "And of course for once in my life, I'd fallen hard...I mean really hard. It was...well let's say, a really strange place for me."

Lanie looked at her friend, "Kate you sound almost insecure. I didn't think you had that in you."

With a frown she offered, "This was different."

Now the ME offered a sad but serious smile, "Do you really think so?"

"What do you mean?"

She leaned forward in the chair, "Kate most of the world has faced unrequited love. They go on and accept that they will never get what or whom they wanted. It's just one of those harsh realities of life."

"Well it was a hard reality for me to accept. I kept looking at him, seeing him look right past me, it was not pleasant...not pleasant at all."

"I'm glad it worked out girlfriend." The ME stood. "Now, will _please_ call me...and not make me have to hunt you down!"

Beckett raised her hands smiling at her friend, "I'm will. I mean it."

"I'll hold you to that. Gotta go. I am so late."

XX

He moved the plates from dinner to the sink and started rinsing for the dishwasher. "Well since you haven't answered my question, "How was my spaghetti tonight?"

Alexis Castle licked the last bits of pudding from her spoon and smiled at her dad, "You know she works in 'the zone' right?"

He stopped what he was doing, "What zone?"

Alexis shook her head. "You don't even know it! It's like a ballet watching you two make dinner, except for the kissy-graby stuff."

The confused look melted away, "You mean 'the zone' in the kitchen...when I'm cooking?"

"That's the one!" Her delivery was like a song, "But it doesn't exist with Kate."

"What's your point my little one?"

"First I'm not little and second, the deal is done Dad. You've acted married since the first time I saw you guys together. So yeah, ask her."

XX

It was a Friday, late in March and the plan was to pick her up from work, then make a run to the Hampton's. Surprisingly it worked and they found a quiet place to eat.

After finishing dinner they enjoyed their coffee along with the serenity of the location. Castle was full and content. But for him, the trip to the Hampton's was not about rest or food. It was time.

"Beckett, I was wondering...since we've built a home together...would you consider…" He took her hand and pulled it to his lips for a kiss, "A modification of your last name?"

She smiled, but feigned confusion, "What kind of a modification Castle?"

"I don't know...change a name? Add a name? Add a hyphen? You know...something new."

"Is this your way proposing to me? A name change? What? A merger?"

"No, no, not a merger! But yes, I'm proposing to you."

She turned her attention to the ocean that churned before them. After a minute she turned back, her tone serious, "I can't!"

His face showed genuine surprise to the response. His eyes flicked in doubt, unsure of how to take her rebuff. "What do you mean... you can't?"

Without changing her tone, she said flatly, "Ah...I'm already married."

He sat up straight, "What do you mean you're already married?"

Causally she continued, "I got married last summer in New York." Before he could speak, she went on, "It was a rainy day and the clouds opened up, and the universe roared...and I said...I do." She turned back to him and beamed.

"Are you talking about our run by the pier venue for…"

"Yep! The one for you and...what's-her-name! But I snuck in and stole the groom." She let out a small laugh, "He's been married to me for...I don't know eight or nine months."

"Beckett...Kate..."

She gave up on the ruse and starting laughing at him, "The problem is, the guy's not always that sharp...I'm not sure he know he's been mine for that long."

"Beckett, stop...why do you that kinda stuff?'

"For a couple of reasons, first...you know I always wondered...when I met the right person, how he'd ask me to marry him. You know maybe... a sky-writer with a big sign, "KATE MARRY ME!" Castle let out a groan. "Beckett..."

She held up her hand, "Or maybe the top of the Empire State Building with the New York sky-line as a back drop!"

His head dropped and he groaned again, speaking into his hands, "Kate I would have done any of those things for you. I didn't think..."

She pressed on, "Or the Conservatory Pond in Central Park...you know dropping to one knee." She looked back out to the ocean, but heard his chair scrap the floor. When she turned back, he was on his knee before her.

"Katherine Houghton Beckett, will you marry me?"

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him tight to herself, almost knocking him off balance. "Of course I'll marry you Castle."

After their hugging they remembered there were other people in the restaurant. He stood and moved back to his chair. As he did the six or so patrons clapped. Beckett and Castle smiled sheepishly.

After he sat, he turned his attention back to her and reaching into his pocket he pulled out something. He opened his hand, in his palm was the cigar-wrapper ring she'd given him after the candy store visit.

With amusement in her eyes and a lilt in her voice, she asked, "What's that?"

He looked indignant over her question. "That? That is the ring you gave me after the candy store."

She shook her head, "That's not going to do Castle! I need a diamond...a big one."

It was his turn to laugh, "You wicked woman! You told me size didn't matter when I asked before..."

She cut-in, "It didn't matter...for _her._ Because I knew you weren't going to marry her."

"I am flabbergasted Beckett...I can't seem to do this right."

She laughed again, "You're doing just fine...and I am going to marry you and soon!"

"Oh yeah? Wait...let's back up. How did you know I wasn't going to marry her?"

"A gypsy told me."

"You mean Madame Johns? Did you go back and see her?"

"Yes...and no."

"Yes! No! What does that mean?"

"Yes she told me, and no I didn't go back and see her."

His face painted with curiosity, "When did she tell you you were going to marry me?"

"When you were on the phone with her..."

"You mean with Mel?"

"Yes, Johns asked me how it felt to love another woman's man."

"You loved me then?"

She looked at her hands, then looked up and shook her head, "I loved you before then..."

He had pulled her to her feet and hugged her again, "Kate...why didn't you..."

"What? Grab an engaged man and tell him…'I love you'… and how desperate does that sound?"

He squeezed her tight, then held her back so he could look at her. Her sheepish look was back for the second time in just a few minutes. "And how did she know I would end up with you?"

"She said it would be hard for you to figure things out...but you would come around...or something like that."

"And that meant you were going to marry me?"

"It meant, I was not going to give up on you until we were together."

He paid the bill and they walked for awhile. The night air was cold, but the wind had settled down after the sunset. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, she leaned heavily against his side, drawing on his warmth.

He chuckled to himself, "So you can't marry me, because you already have?"

She pushed away and punched at his shoulder, "Just funning you Castle. But I've felt like we'd end up together since the day at pier. It was so stupid. You didn't seem to notice me. But I held on to the hope that it would work out. That's what I..."

"I always noticed you Beckett" He pulled her against him, squeezing her shoulder, "And it did work out."

She was quiet for a few minutes as they slowly walked. "I remember my Mom loved some really different music, I mean different. One of her favorites was by Lyle Lovett. He had a song she used to always listen to, literally for years, it was called _Simply Song_. As a little girl I thought it sounded so sad, so forlorn. But after she was gone...I listened to it again...with different ears. It really made sense to me. The last lines of it goes:

 _And when you find the one you might become_

 _Remember part of me is you._

"Why are you telling this Kate?"

"Because I had fallen so hard for you...and as stupid as it sounds...I instinctively knew that part of me was you. We had worked together for only a short amount of time...if we didn't work out...if you never really saw me...if you couldn't love me…when you left, you'd end of taking part of me with you. I didn't know how I would handle that...what I'd do."

He stopped and pulled her to himself, "I don't think I could ever have resisted you...and on some level I knew that early on." He paused, "After Nikki Heatstarted to invade my head, I think I knew there was a real one, a better version of her...life was bigger than art...and my future was intricately woven in you."

She looked at him and smiled, "You don't mess around with words do you?"

He kissed her head and stepped back, "I would say the same of you."

She huffed, "I wish you had told me these things when I was in panic mode."

He just shook his head, "I was too stupid at that time."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tighter, "So yes. Yes Mr. Castle, I will indeed be your wife." She pecked at his cheek, "And about the ring..."

XX

It was a private affair.

The guest list ended up being a little longer than they had first planned, but not by much. It was still a relatively small group. The couple had chosen those most important to them, to be near for the special day. Among that group was Gene and Fran, the former tenants at the loft, both beamed at the couple and each other.

Lanie and Alexis held the flowers and provided an abundance of tears. They were seconded only by Martha Rogers who ranged from diva to dotting mother.

So on a pleasant April afternoon in the Hampton's, James Beckett gave his daughter Katherine to Richard Castle in marriage. Alexis Castle was his best daughter.

XX

The move to The Beckett building was completed before the wedding and by May things had settled down.

It was a Sunday evening and Kate had spent a final few hours reviewing the murder book for her upcoming trial testimony. She felt she was ready to face any questions that would be thrown at her in court the next day. She was not concerned about the out come. They'd done it by the book. The warrants were good, as were the searches. Her one concern was the opposing attorney, Melissa Marrone. She had not seen her since the heated exchange at Castles loft, over nine months ago.

On Monday morning, as she entered the court room she could see the back of Marrone. She drew in a deep breath and then took her seat. After some preliminaries the DA for Manhattan called the first witness, Detective Kate Beckett.

She stood and walked through the gate in the railing that separated the gallery from the Judge and the legal teams. She took her place on the witness stand. The court clerk approached, asked her to state her name for the record, "Katherine Beckett Castle," and administered the oath.

The DA remained at the table and following the swearing in asked his first question, "Detective, do you go by Beckett or Castle?"

"Beckett professionally, Castle everywhere else."

"The court records shows only Beckett, how long have you been married?"

"Just over a month."

"Very well." He looked down at his notes, "Were you the lead Detective on..."

The questions continued up until the first break at approximately 10:40 am. The Judge reminded everyone that the recess would be short and directed everyone to be back in their places at 11:00 am sharp.

Beckett went to the nearest restroom. When she exited the stall, she saw Melissa Marrone washing her hands. She grabbed a paper towel and turned to look at Beckett, her stare was cold.

"Well Detective, it appears you got it all! The man, the money, the ring...and of course his name. I underestimated you." She paused as if she was gathering her thoughts, "I tried to warn him...but he wouldn't listen." She stopped and gave her head a shake, "But be careful! If you could steal him from me...someone...someday will steal him from you."

Beckett bristled, but keeping her voice even, which was much calmer than she felt, "I disagree counselor. I did not steal him from you." She paused, "It was never about his name, his money or a ring. It was always, and only, about him. And, the truth is...he was never yours." Beckett dropped the paper towel in the trash and walked past the attorney without another word.

XX

It was not PTSD, but simply a vivid dream with the crack of a gun and flying glass. He had startled awake a couple times over the past month, following the dream re-run of the shoot-out from the victim's apartment. What struck him each time was the overwhelming sense of fear, not for himself, but for her. In his dream he had leaped and covered her, protecting her from the flying bullets. When he was fully awake, he smiled at the absurdity of a tag-along writer, covering the lead cop with his body, to protect her in a shoot-out. But at his core, he wanted her safe and he worried but knew, it was the price of marrying a cop. He was by no means the first, and far from last spouse of a police officer to be troubled over the job.

During a slow time at the precinct he decided he would, bring up his re-current dream, sorta. Sitting his phone on her desk, he studied his beautiful wife, "I need you to know the password on my phone."

"Why?"

"Why? What if something happens to me?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Like I...get run over...fall off the subway...or get shot?"

She went silent after his last example and turned to glare at him. "You shouldn't even be following me, you know that. You're not a cop. You don't get paid to get shot at, and..."

He held up his hand, "Relax." Delivered with a smile.

She frowned, "You're practically handing me your Last Will and Testament."

"First of all, most of it is yours anyway."

"It better not be Bub!"

He re-focused and returned to the topic. He spoke slowly, "I'm just giving you a password...just saying you may need it." Holding up both hands, "You ready?"

Still frowning, "I should put it in my phone."

"Not necessary."

As she grabbed her phone anyway, "Castle I have a good memory, but I can't store _your_ password in my head."

"We'll see!" Smiling at her, "OK...it's 19791979, not too hard?"

She pulled her hands back from the keyboard and looked up from her screen, a single tear erupted from her left eye. She just stared for a moment.

His face switching from a smile to concern. He pulled out a handkerchief and quickly set it on the desk in front of her.

When she finally spoke it, her voice was thick and low, so no one in the bull pen could hear, "Castle, why would you do that?"

He watched as she wiped the tear, but tried to remain light, despite her reaction, "I was upgrading my phone...and the tech guy said to change the password. He suggested a year, and added, 'an important year is always best, then use that number twice for the full eight characters.' I used 1979, the most important year of my life...the year you were born."

She stood, pointing towards the break room. He followed and once inside she closed the door, and pulled the blind shut. She then spun, pulling him in, wrapping her arms around his neck, spilling it all into his ear, "Do you have any idea how much I love you."

His face was serious as he brushed the side of her face with his fingers, "I'm learning...and I'm thankful."

XX

Call it a sixth sense, or whatever, but he had it. He could feel it when someone was watching him. As he typed away on his phone, his inner alarm went off and his head spontaneously popped up. The first thing in his line of vision were her legs. They went on forever and he mused, " _T_ _his woman ha_ _s_ _legs a mile long."_ She was only 10 feet away studying the murder board. He expected, as he visually swept upward that he'd see her pondering some small detail on the board. Maybe focused on a glitch in the time-line. He had watched her do it over and over, often with her hand supporting her chin.

But not this time.

His eyes collided with hers. She had been the one staring, setting off his alarms. But she was in lost in thought, he couldn't tell if she was looking at him or past him. When he called out her name, at first she didn't respond but when it registered, her eyes went wide.

He asked again, "Beckett! You in there?"

"Ugh...yeah, just thinking."

"What, that I'm a suspect?"

"No, no...sorry." She turned back to the board.

He mumbled to himself, "That was weird," then walked over and stood beside her. Folding his arms and looking at the board, "Beckett you really OK?"

"I'm good Castle."

"Then why were you staring at me?"

"I was just thinking about something you said, and...and then I got lost."

"OK, let me change the subject, how about some lunch?"

"I'm not that hungry. I had..."

"Yeah the bear claw I brought you five hours ago."

She looked embarrassed, "You don't have to monitor what I eat."

"Well since I seem to be the only one worrying about your food intake, looks like I'm it."

She shoulder bumped him, "Fine my love, let's go get a bite."

XX

It had been a busy week for both of them. Friday night was a crash on the sofa night. Saturday was full of errands and chores. But not Sunday. After relaxation and a light dinner, they ended up in bed. But not to sleep.

She lay beside him, his eyes were shut, glued shut. His head slightly tilted back, facial muscles still taunt, jaw locked. He was laying perfectly still, just feeling her against his side.

She whispered onto his shoulder, "Hey big guy, you OK?"

He let out a noise, something between a grunt and a soft moan.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Then softly, "Beckett, Beckett...Beckett."

"Here." Sealed with another kiss to his shoulder, "Where are you?"

"I'm...I'm somewhere…a stranger…in a strange land." A smile breaking across his face.

"Where is this strange land of yours?"

He exhaled, but his eyes remained shut, "With you...place I'd never been before...never visited...never even knew existed."

She moved closer, her arm sliding across his chest., "Tell me...of this land."

Another grunt, then sputtered words, "...Hard to speak...don't want to...don't want to leave...be near...Beckett my love...stay near…."

She sculpted her leg over his and coiled in, "I'm here Rick...I'm here...you really OK?"

"Beyond OK..."

She felt him relax as the last residue of of tension shuddered through his body.

She whispered, "You back?"

"No...not coming back."

She laughed, "You are a strange man…tell me more." She laughed again, "So... that's where incredible sex takes you?"

"Yes..." He paused, "But no." This time he paused much longer, "It's more than that...incredible, oh yeah, but still more...the being one, it's art in its highest form."

"Art?"

He opened his eyes slowly and rolled on his side to face her. She stared back, a smile painting her face, eyes dark as she listened intently. "I read where divorce is...the desecration of God's art, the tearing apart of two beings...once blended into one." He let out a small laugh. "I thought it was corny...shrugged off the idea when I read it…but I'm not shrugging anymore." He leaned in and kissed her, "It's hard to put in words what I feel with you," pulling her tight to himself, "With you...only you...it all aligns...for a brief moment...not alone...not searching...not longing for anything."

In a raspy and thick voice she slid up and kissed his cheek, "Castle..."

It was his turn to whisper, "My place in the universe...you."

"Mine too, my love." After a brief kiss, "So glad we found it each other...so glad."

THE END

* * *

 _A/N - So we are at the end. Some thank-yous are in place._

 _First to ABC and the Castle gang. It's been 10 years since the show began and Andrew Marlowe's idea is still generating magic. Quite a feat._

 _Second to my resident beta who has read and helped me in this task. Thank you!_

 _Third to EB Fiddler who helped so much on Chapters 3 - 8. Best to you EB!_

 _Fourth all of you who have taken time to read, to drop a note, to favorite or to follow. Thank you so much._

 _As always the mistakes are mine. Life gets in the way of writing and at some point you just have to publish._

 _Finally to the readers around the world. It is exciting to see all the countries that follow a story. Hits from places like Jamaica, Indonesia, Barbados, Denmark, Trinidad & Tobago, to name just few, are really encouraging when you write. So again thanks to all. _

_Madreag_


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